Atlanta, GA
3
Probably not fair to rate this particular city, as I was only there once for about a week when I was 15 years old...and it's been a pretty long time since I was 15. My father had business there, and decided to bring the whole family along with him. Given that my youthful opinions about the South were not very positive, I remember being surprised by how modern the city seemed, how cosmopolitan. We were able to lounge around a hotel pool...not a "swimmin' hole down bah the crick"...Junior Samples and the guys from Deliverance were nowhere in sight...and I was able to steal a book from the local Rich's Department Store (do they still exist?) without getting nabbed and strung up from the nearest poplar tree. I remember that our hotel provided, in addition to the Gideon Bible and in-room movies (my sister and I watched those instead of reading the Bible when my parents went out together in the evening), a guide to local "entertainment", and there were a ton of voluptuous strippers listed there (including the one known as "Morgana", who used to run topless onto the mound at baseball games and kiss the pitcher), along with their pictures (which, believe me, I "perused" at great length). I believe most of the "adult entertainment" was on Peachtree Street, but I was, alas, far too young to check it out "in the flesh", so to speak. I vaguely remember shopping at Underground Atlanta, although it didn't make much of a lasting impression on me. More memorable was Stone Mountain, which was admittedly impressive (although a book store nearby that was selling a paperback biography of my childhood hero Jack "Legs" Diamond, which frankly surprised me, made more of an impression). I also remember eating at a local "Southern-style" restaurant and feeling a bit disconcerted by the black attendants in white jackets who would bring over various bowls filled with food, ask, "More peas, sir?" or "More potatoes, sir?", and then spoon some onto my plate if I answered in the affirmative. Perhaps that was just the way things were (or are) done in Atlanta, but it left me feeling uncomfortable (even though the food was certainly good and filling). At one point, I walked off on my own, and entered a poor black neighborhood, leaving "cosmopolitan" Atlanta behind and confronting the reality of Southern poverty and the fact that, as modern as Atlanta might have been, this was still Georgia (or "Jo-jah" as they seem to pronounce it there). Finally, Dad wrapped up his business and we left, and I remember it was a long, long car ride back to NJ. I've never returned in the years since, but I still retain some good memories of my visit there, and wouldn't necessarily be adverse to going there again, if the occasion presented itself. In recent years, a biological half-brother lived there with his wife and kids, and he seemed to like it fine. However, a lady friend's daughter went down there to work briefly, and disliked it intensely (she's Jamaican).