Okra, tomatoes, energy Redding music

The roads around here can propel a man into new circles of interest. Yesterday, I made a trip to a good market on Buford Highway and bought a lot of soba. Going on Buford H. reminds one that this land of Georgia has come a long way from the hominy grits stuff and the cornbread. Yet, that sweet soul-driven memory is still here kickin' along, too. Early today traveled into Gwinnett County on some errands. Coming back on the hilarity-prone ride that is old Highway 78, stopped for a little lunch and woofed down some mighty fine okra and tomatoes and salisbury steak. On the way back thought back to good times in historic midtown with its vignette style places that kind of ring like an Atlantan version of the French Quarter in New Orleans. What is this Georgia anyway? Some people who come here only see the brashness of the urban whoopee life. More individuals need to peer deep into the intensity that is the raw emotionalism of so many Georgians. Get in there where the great writer, Flannery O'Connor was. History is not something to be afraid of. A great prof named Kenneth Coleman offered up a long time ago that the true history is the sum total of all kinds of rather unique experiences. When Georgia football took off it was heavily influenced by a strong clever defensive genius of a man named Erk Russell I was there and I saw the earth by George, move. And it was wham, greatness. Eating fantastic vegetables, feasting on the marvelous literary art gifts of Flannery and of course getting soundly to true strength in the powerful music of one Mr.Redding...that's what it all means. May okra and tomatoes keep 'barefootin' on.