MARTA: Give me your socks for a song?

I take the subway.

The MARTA (Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority) does, indeed, serve Metro Atlanta. The "Rapid" part is debatable, since I frequently seem to end up on trains that get stopped for some reason. I'm a little unclear as to why a train (or rather, a train conductor) feels the need to stop in the middle of tracks (usually on an elevated part), since the MARTA runs only in four directions. It's a very simple system. The MARTA line forms a large cross through the middle of downtown Atlanta--the hub being Five Points. The line I take to school is the East line, and I only live six stops from GSU.

But a lot can happen in six stops.

A couple of days ago I hopped on the MARTA after school and began the "rapid" transit home. I was sitting in my seat near the door, staring at the ridiculous billboards, when a man impatiently stepped on at the next stop. He spent a few moments re-arranging his duffle bag, his plastic shopping bag (which was rather tattered), and a large black garbage bag. He sang a little under his breath as he organized his belongings, and when he seemed situated, he realized that he had chosen the wrong location for his ride, and promptly moved everything directly in front of one set of the train's doors. He piled his various bags together in a mound, staddled them (facing the train doors), took a very worn piece of paper out of his back pocket, and began to sing.

Now, when I say "sing," I don't mean to imply that he sang quietly, or non-chalantly. He full out SANG. He didn't leg tap--he full body knee bounced. He gestured his his arms, indicating the train door window or himself, he pointed and winked at the train door window, and he performed some semi-dance steps (remember, he's straddling three bags, so this was mostly accomplished with his hips and some pelvic thrusts directed at the train door). His choreographer had incorporated a number of Motown-esque dance moves, and he passionately arm-swooped and back-stepped at the MARTA train door.

He was actually pretty good.

But this isn't the strange part. The man was obviously practicing--he re-sang lines, tried hitting different notes, forgot a word and had to check his piece of paper--he must have had a rehearsal or audition of some kind. He kept checking his watch, and I could only assume he, too, was unimpressed at MARTA's inclusion of "rapid" in their name, and was simply warming up on the train.

Here's the strange part. As he danced and leg bounced and gestured at the door, one of the bags between his legs--the black trash bag--came partly open. The black wispy plastic fell limp, and the contents of the entire bag were revealed--some even scatted out across the floor. And what was the bag full of?

Socks. An entire kitchen sized trash bag full of men's white athletic socks--still with the wrappers around them all. And all I could think was "My God. What does this man need with a hundred pairs of white socks?" Because there was AT LEAST a hundred pairs of socks in that bag.

As I reached my stop, he introduced himself, announced that he would be singing at GSU at some indefinite time in the future, invited me (and the car in general) to his performance, made me repeat his name, and then berated me for not repeating it enthusiastically enough.

And I have to admit, I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at that point, because it had suddenly dawned on me how many sock puppets I could make with those socks.

A LOT.

Orientation (or, how do I get keys?)

Today was the last day of my GSU teaching and new student orientation.

Wow.

Whirlwind does even begin to explain it. I feel vaguely oriented--I am at least on so many lists and listservs that I'm not even sure what's coming into my inbox anymore. I can walk from the MARTA (GSU station) to the General Classroom Building (where the English Dept. is) without looking at a map now. And I'm becoming pretty good at finding the University Police Station and waiting for 45 minutes for keys that I'm not going to get. At least, not for my classrooms, I don't think.

The key situation is pretty impressive. In order to control incidents of theft, GSU now requires that classrooms be locked before and after classes. This means that us teachers and professors need keys to the classrooms. And since we teach in multiple rooms, we need multiple keys. Some buildings seem not to require keys, or haven't had locks installed yet--these are the buildings I seem to be teaching in. I have no idea where they are, but at least I won't get locked out accidentally. Hopefully.

I have also not managed to get my department key or office key yet, although I have been told that the Police Station will call me when they're ready. I have acquired an office, but I don't know where it is. Somewhere on the ninth floor of the GCB. I'll worry about finding it when I can open it.

I'm really impressed with the English Department, however. Orientation was quite helpful, if not a little overwhelming. They have the coolest packet of Teacher Resources that includes all kinds of information on their comp courses and pedagogy. GSU is definitely hip to Peter Elbow, and I really like the amount of control they let us have over our classes. I've got this crazy idea of implementing a class blog as an experiment with form, public writing, and technology. We'll see how that goes.

My new friend Priya and I are meeting tomorrow to copy our syllabi, and to explore a little more of Atlanta. Since I haven't yet finished my syllabus, I'm not sure how much copying will be completed on my part. I really dig my new text (Motives for Writing), so now it's just a matter of deciding when I'm going to what in class.

Getting there is half the fun

I realized after unpacking how much storage space I had lost by moving into an apartment without built in shelves. Someone (Miss Jenny) said, "Check out Ikea. Do you have one?"

Ikea? I had heard of this place called Ikea, but I had never been there. When I think bookshelves or CD shelves, I think Target. Coincidentally, an Ikea catalogue came in the mail, and I began flipping through it. Wow! It was entire catalogue of furniture that I could mostly afford!! I decided to investigate this Ikea place in person. It would be worth driving into downtown Atlanta.

I chose an excessive number of CDs, and hopped into my car. Since I've hardly driven it in two weeks, and my car is black, it was like hopping into the pit of hell. Especially since I was out of cigarrettes.

I began navigating my MapQuest route, stopping for smokes before it became complicated, as I was not about to attempt to get lost without cigarettes. And it was a lucky thing, because I quickly got lost.

The thing with Atlanta is that no road has just one name. Each road changes names at least three times, from what I can tell. It's the same road, going the same direction, FOR THE MOST PART, but the name changes--for example, in Richmond, Cary St. becomes Huguenot Rd. becomes Courthouse Rd. But these name changes occur within blocks of each other in Atlanta, as opposed to 15 or 20 miles.

Now, as I said, it's the same road, FOR THE MOST PART. In order to clarify matters, the GA Dept. of Transportation has also apparently decided that some roads are the same that go in a different direction, and that labelling these changes would be cheating. For example, I'm driving down Buford Highway, and I see two signs: Exit left for 85 S, Exit right for Sidney Marcus Blvd. Since I want to do neither of these things, I stay in my lane, the right lane, since I'm trying to turn right eventually. Suddenly, I'm on Sidney Marcus Blvd. THAT WAS THE EXIT. Staying on the road was the exit. After some backtracking, I discovered that what I needed to do was follow the sign that said "Exit left for 85 S," which obviously indicates that I will remain on Buford Hwy should I choose that path.

I should also mention that every other street has Peachtree in the name somewhere. So feasibly Peachtree Ln will become Arcadia Ave, which will become Peachtree Center St, which you can only stay on by talking at left at a sign that says "Exit for 75 N.

This is all very confusing, and I am glad to see that the GA Dept. of Transportation took the same action I would have in the city. They gave up. They just stopped labelling intersections and roads all together. I drove through several intersections that had NO signs posted anywhere--just these sad hanging traffic lights that seemed to say "Well, you can go if you want to, but good luck getting anywhere."

I can only draw one conclusion--that in all probability, the GA Dept. of Transportation doesn't know what road it is either, or where they're going, and that they are just as lost as I am. And really, in a way, that makes me feel better.