2003
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•March
•April: About Town
•May: Happy Thoughts
•June: Visiting Africa
•July: 30 Years of Observation
•August: Saying 'Goodbye' to Bobby Harper
•September: Happy Atlanta
•October: Thoughts on the Season
•November: Atlanta's searching for an identity
•December: After-hours questions
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We're rockin' into the new year 2003
by ron hudspeth
•Congratulations to the guys at East Andrews Cafe. The naysayers had screamed location, location, location when former Tavern barkeep Steve de Haan and his partners opened in a less-than-swinging section of Buckhead a few months ago, but East Andrews is now the hottest stop in the city. Thursday is the night to check it out.
•Can't believe the lifestyle nerds that live around Chastain Park are complaining about the noise again. I lived by Chastain Park for 20 years and loved the nights when the music from the park came through loud and clear. Oh, well, once upon a time people in this town used to like to have fun.
•So the news is MARTA has lost eight million riders in the past two years? Small wonder. They should have tunneled it under Peachtree and Roswell Roads all the way to Roswell and it would have been the eighth wonder of the world. Mostly the present-day MARTA goes nowhere anyone wants to go. And how dumb is it that there is no MARTA train to Turner Field?
•These are lousy economic times for a lot of folks, but wouldn't it be a better world this year if there was less business hustle and more genuine smiles for friends, neighbors and strangers.
•A little less Jennifer Lopez, please... and a lot more Shakira.
•Michael Vick is the most exciting athlete in Atlanta since Pistol Pete Maravich but it would be a whole lot more fun if he was running on real grass in the Georgia Dome.
•Wow, who would have thunk it. Gwinnett, once known for its cow pastures, now has a 13,000-seat arena and hockey, football and even The Boss is on his way there. About time for the symphony to move to Cumming. Atlanta is an ever-changing place bearing little or no resemblance to the one I rode into a mere 30 years ago.
•They celebrated the anniversary of a guy the other day who had worked 50 years behind the counter at The Varsity. That's some grease spot.
•Okay, it's time for another Holyfield-Tyson fight. Why? Because they're still here.
•As my age continues to climb (how did I get here?) I realize that the biggest discrimination in the United States is neither racial nor sexual. It is age. Sadly, acting like a kid and staying young at heart in the USA, is frowned upon by the lifestyle police. Young is nice, but older is when you really understand satisfaction and get a clue of what it's all about.
•It's difficult to think of Saddam Hussein as anything but a buffoon. However, it's Georgia Tech vs. Cumberland one more time, since George W. Bush seems strangely bent on playing the first team for four quarters.
•Read the other day that only 13 per cent of Americans have passports. You'll understand yourself, your country and, most importantly, the rest of the world if you get off your butt and out of yours once in awhile.
•Whatever happened to Wyche Fowler? Two million new people who just moved to Atlanta in the last decade, just said: Who's Wyche Fowler?
•Well, we can all take solace in the fact that some things don't change. Underground Atlanta and Vanderbilt are still struggling.
•My prediction is that country music will soon disappear (George Jones and Alan Jackson are all that's left) And for good reason. There's no one left in the country.
•Around the year 2034 look for women to be 91 per cent of the CEOs in American corporations. The other nine per cent? Computers and cross dressers.
•I also predict that life will be discovered on a distant planet in 2087. Life with no traffic jams, muggings, computers, DUIs, AIDs, lawyers or cell phones. Everyone is simply hanging out on a beach, sipping cold margaritas, enjoying the sun, dancing to exotic rhythms and making love. Says the sign at the local spacesport: Will the last one to leave please turn out the lights.
Newest
Phipps 'Twist'
joins decade-old Tavern
by ron hudspeth
Newest hot stop in the Big A? It says here it will be the newest creation of Tom Catherall, the man who gave us Prime, Goldfish and more. With a sexy name and a big bar catering to the party crowd, Twist can't miss. Even nicer, it makes Phipps Plaza a two-stop watering hole as the decade-old Tavern is still rockin' along with free poured drinks, the city's zaniest barkeeps and, heaven forbid, even a new menu with a whopping 30 new items... Tavern owner Greg Greenbaum has other reasons to smile. On St. Patrick's Day he'll open New York Prime, an upscale steakhouse in the old Chequers location behind the nearby Ritz Carlton, and he has lured away from Bone's the city's maitre 'd legend, Bobby Donlan, who for 31 years at that Piedmont Road steakhouse has provided best tables to Atlanta's movers-and-shakers. Greenbaum luring Donlan away from Bone's is tantamount to the Phillies' grabbing Tom Glavine from the Braves. Donlan will arrive as a managing partner and you can bet many of those who demand VIP service will follow.
Freaknik or Cheesecake?
Is it a horrible accident? Or construction featuring the dastardly orange cones? It is 5:30 on a Saturday afternoon and I am headed south on Roswell Road in front of Rio Bravo about to enter Peachtree in Buckhead. Traffic is a mess in what should be one of the tranquil times in the nightmarish driving scene in Atlanta. We inch along and finally the problem becomes evident. It is caused by would-be diners in the right lane and other directions on Peachtree attempting to turn into Cheesecake Factory. Who are these people who flock to this place like it's mecca? Everyone I talk to despises this chain-designed palace of "whopping proportions" and the obnoxious "Smith, party of four" PA announcement, but the Cheesecake corporation laughs all the way to the bank with what is annually reported to be the top grossing restaurant in the city ($12 to $14 million)... Conversely, one of the city's best kept secrets is Blackstone's on South Atlanta Road just inside I-285 in Cobb County. Created by a group including former Pano Karatassos' disciples, Blackstone's has a super bar with a fun crowd (check it out of Fridays), a warm, darkwood atmosphere and food that matches any of Buckhead's heralded men's steakhouse. It attracts many from nearby Vinings, and the night yours truly popped in, one young blonde told me: "I lived in Buckhead for 12 years, but I moved out here recently. I love it and this is my place." When you pop in, ask for affable general manager Jeff Gelfond. He'll take care of you.
East Andrews expands
As I have mentioned, the hottest happening in Buckhead at the moment is East Andrews Cafe, and business is so good and promising, it's owners have acquired the nearby defunct Celebrity Rock Cafe and plan to open a "European-feel" restaurant, bar and dance club in the large space. Look for the West Village area of Buckhead to prosper and hatch new spots in the coming months as the Bolling Way and East Village area continues to struggle with barely 21-year-olds and undesirables on the streets who don't come in and spend money and prefer to hang out in a game of wall-to-wall cruising with stereos blaring... Ever had breakfast at the White House in Buckhead? If you haven't, it isn't because you haven't had a chance. It celebrates its 54th birthday this month... Speaking of breakfast, there's never been a better omelette in the city than at Thumbs Up on Edgewood Avenue. And it stays open until 4 p.m. on weekends, giving those with hangovers a chance to crawl in and receive much needed therapy... And this city never stops reinventing itself. Gone on Northside Drive is the building that housed the once famous Melvin's where a New York Times critic noted biscuits were so light and wonderful they floated out of your plate and onto the ceiling above. Not that a New Yorker would have a clue about a Southern biscuit but the proof was there were little circles on the ceiling. A toast to the long gone Melvin's, which always provided happy bellies.
Creating some 'good news' on Peachtree
by ron hudspeth
If you're like me, you're fed up and bored to tears with today's news.
How many more times can George W. Bush say he's gonna kick Saddam Hussein's butt? And for that matter, how many more thousands of TV clips of Saddam Hussein firing a gun into the sky from his balcony can we endure.
I am almost tempted to watch one of those Reality TV shows, but not quiet. I'm not totally brain dead yet.
Instead I have decided to create my own news. Headlines you can really sink your teeth into and enjoy. Here goes: (this being a local publication, I have catered it exclusively to Atlanta readers):
Happy hour returns to Atlanta
After years of blatant discrimination against those who love a cocktail or two after work, the Atlanta City Council yesterday legalized Happy Hour. For those of you too young to recall, Atlantans, with smiley faces, actually poured out of godawful office jobs at 5 p.m. to enjoy themselves in a nearby watering hole, often at reduced prices.
The day after the new law was implemented a startling side affect was discovered. The afternoon rush hour had vanished.
Underground Atlanta becomes casino
After years of struggling and scores of retail, nightclub and restaurant failures, Underground Atlanta yesterday officially became one giant casino.
Opening night the new casino was jammed with tens of thousands of people laughing, drinking, gambling and generally having a ball.
"We got to have somewhere to fleece the conventioneers," said one beaming Underground official.
Lake Lanier announces restaurant row
Finally noting that every weekend there are thousands of people cruising in every kind of boat imaginable with nowhere to go, the Corps of Engineers announced plans to build a multi-million dollar lakeside dock on Lake Lanier lined with scores of restaurants, shops and assorted fun happenings.
It all happened when one of the engineers vacationed in Fort Lauderdale and discovered numerous places like Shooter's on the Inter-coastal waterway where daily people flock by car and BOAT to dine and have fun and watch the passing parade of boats.
Turner Field moved to Atlantic Steel site
After attendance dropped off by two-thirds when the new-look Braves fell from first to last place for the first time in a decade in 2003, officials announced that Turner Field will be moved from its current site to the new Atlantic Steel site at the intersection of I-75 and I-85 on the city's northside.
Turner Field will rest on the turf once reserved for the Aquarium, which moved downtown (see story below).
While most new stadiums around the country had spawned shops, pubs and restaurants and totally revitalized nearby neighborhoods, Turner Field's total contribution to the turnaround of the Summerhill neighborhood was a Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise.
Atlanta Aquarium features mermaids
Six months after opening - with crowds dwindling daily - management of the downtown Atlanta Aquarium moved to bolster attendance by announcing it has added mermaids to its collection of sea life on display at the multi-million dollar underwater facility.
However, officials voted against the opening of a fresh seafood restaurant in the building, noting that would be politically incorrect and an insult to the aquarium's inhabitants, especially the mahi mahi, red snapper and tuna, not to mention hacking off a great white shark or two.
The mermaids, who have lungs so large they can stay underwater for a half hour at the time, are on loan from The Cheetah.
Forty two-inch snowfall paralyzes city
An unprecedented April snowfall blasted the city of Atlanta yesterday bringing everything to a standstill.
Fortunately, the 42 inches of white stuff wasn't as bad as it sounded.
Not a car moved. Everyone got to play hookey from work. The snow was beautiful. Makeshift sleighs were on hills everywhere. People dressed in their best ski outfits and walked to nearby pubs and restaurants, laughing and enjoying a day and night not unlike the infamous Snowjam of the early 1980s.
The snowstorm did cancel several events, among them a Hawks' basketball game and a Hip Hop convention. The latter decided to reschedule after it learned automobiles were useless on Atlanta streets.
North Fulton's Aqua Blue is 'red' hot
by ron hudspeth
Aqua Blue on Holcomb Bridge is the best night time happening ever in the Roswell-Alpharetta area. A big square island bar and live music have veteran Atlanta nightlifers like Bill Beavers calling it "a touch of the old Harrison's on Peachtree." That's quite a recommendation and owner John Metz acknowledges the pressure. "We've got it going," he said, surveying a packed Thursday night crowd, "but the key in this business is to keep it going."
Surround sound
Twist is the hottest happening in the city at the moment but nightlifers acknowledge the Phipps Plaza restaurant-bar when packed sounds like a Kansas twister... Twist seems to be doing something not easy in Atlanta, pulling a mixed-age crowd and one of the old timers spotted there was former WGST talk show host Tom Houck, who says he's writing a book about his days as Martin Luther King's chauffeur. And negotiating for a six-figure advance, no less. Next tab's on you, Tom.... George Rohrig's Lodge remains the solid country-cooking stop in Buckhead, but a new dish - the fried shrimp, is a real winner in league with any served on any coast.... You gotta love Hooters' Air Line and its advertising bent: Who would want a window seat?
Meat of the issue
Co-owner Greg Greenbaum acknowledges the steaks at his new New York Prime Steakhouse may be the pricest in town, but points out he is the only steak eatery in town serving a "prime" filet, rather than choice meat. Wholesale prices for prime steak, says Greenbaum "are almost twice as much as choice. Other restaurants might say they're serving 'prime' but it's really 'choice.'" Greenbaum, who's teaming with Bones' icon Bobby Donlan in the swank new eatery may challenge the supremacy of the legendary filet at Hal's on Old Ivy, the No. 1 unchallenged steak favorite in my survey of the city's steak lovers. Hal's owner Hal Nowak, incidentally, is again ready to expand to Roswell to open another Hal's in a location near the Holiday Inn there he tried and abandoned several years ago.... Oddest scene during a damp and less than joyous St. Patrick's Day celebration was at Fado's, the Irish pub, where the festivities including a mechanical bull. A mechanical bull? Irish Cowboy meets 1979's "Urban Cowboy." Yes, everything that goes around, comes around. Actually, one other mechanical bull is a fixture in metro Atlanta at Cowboys, the giant club in Kennesaw.
The naked truth
Strip clubs now open on Sundays in Atlanta. Who would have thunk it in a city where once you had to have a coat and tie on to get a drink in a bar after 8 p.m. Yes, a coat and tie. You haven't lived until a manager reached into a closet and gave you a string tie and a two-sizes, too large coat to wear rather than be tossed out of the place at the bewitching hour of 8 p.m.... Speaking of nude dance clubs, those who have sampled Alluvia, Cheetah's fine dining restaurant, say it equals any white tablecloth establishment in the city. There were the Gold Club hoods and then there is Cheetah owner Bill Hagood. He's always been a class act.
Hello, April
It's spring and that means the city's outdoor patios and decks come alive. It doesn't get any better in Atlanta.... If you're in the Vinings-Smyrna neighborhood, sample the melt-in-your-mouth "Wedge" salad dish at Blackstone's.... Hear about the Dunwoody woman who took her expired pooch to the vet and demanded something be done. The vet examined Fido, confirming he had died, and said, "I'm sorry, m'am, but he's gone. That'll be $50." "But you've got to do something," screamed the woman. The vet then called in a labrador retriever who proceeded to sniff around the expired dog, and then in came a cat who did the same. "I'm sorry," said the vet, "but your pet is dead. That will be $500." "$500!" exclaimed the woman. "You said $50 before!" "I'm sorry, m'am," said the vet, "but that was before the lab test and the catscan."
Hey: Live, Love, Laugh, Be Free!
by ron hudspeth
Now that we've kicked the Shiite out of Saddam and Co., don't have a clue if it was the right or wrong thing to do? But I am certain of one thing. It's time for everyone to lighten up and enjoy life. Hey, kids, summers almost here.
Let's look on the bright side and give thanks:
•There's now a diet you can eat all the steak and bacon you want.
•Airports are a pain these days, but haven't seen a pay toilet in years.
•The Hawks have closed up shop and left the neighborhood.
•It will be at least seven months before you start freezing your butt off again.
•That a few of us remain who could care less if Georgia had a flag.
•That we now have more steakhouses to choose from in Buckhead than there are grain-fed cattle in Colorado.
•Outdoor decks and sidewalk cafes, those open-air venues that give a city its real social flavor, are now in full bloom around the city.
•It's time to grill....with a cold beer in hand, of course.
•The hip hop festival failed miserably and maybe there won't be automobile lockdown again until the NBA All-Star game shows up once more... maybe in 2022.
•That May is the most wonderful weather of the year in Atlanta.
•Twist is this spring's hotspot for lonely hearts to intertwine. And, notes Tom Catherall, owner of the trendy Phipps Plaza stop, no one is looking for love on an empty stomach: "We're feeding a thousand people a day."
•Pete the Northside barkeep, dean of the city's bartenders, is still serving them up twice a week at Park Bench in Buckhead. Everyone knows that a barkeep is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory.
•There is still a day baseball game here and there on the Braves' schedule at Turner Field.
•Larry Miller, a better judge of talent than John Schuerholz, has moved on to become a managing partner at nearby New York Prime, but the wait staff talent at The Tavern at Phipps still blows away any Hooters' in the metro area.
•You're not flying international with Delta at this moment expecting the traditional complimentary cocktails (Sorry, Delta is now charging for drinks. Got to cover those executive bonuses).
•The Music Midtown festival remains a happening (hey, traditions don't last long in this city which now seems bent on changing faces every decade).
•Carver's Grocery is still going strong on West Marietta Street. The meat loaf, please, with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, squash and fried okra. And, burp, a little banana pudding for dessert, thank you.
•That somewhere, someplace at this moment, Pano Karatassos is planning a new restaurant.
•Lake Lanier is full of water.
•For the gorillas, lion, tigers and other creatures at Zoo Atlanta. It truly is an amazing place to stroll on a beautiful spring day.
•On slow Sunday afternoons when the television has bored you to death and you're dreaming of that soon-to-come beach vacation you can drive up to American Pie and (with a little imagination) watch the waves roll in over Roswell Road.
•That it is very human and natural to feel that the age you are at the moment is the best age to be.
•For the new Silver Comet Trail in Cobb&emdash;which one day will stretch to Alabama&emdash;giving walkers, joggers and cyclists something very special that metro Atlanta has needed for a long time.
•For that first cup of coffee in the morning.
•For Jerry Farber, whose T-shirt says it all: "Live, Love, Laugh, Be Free."
It's 'Out of Atlanta'... into deepest Africa
by ron hudspeth
FROM DEEPEST, DARKEST AFRICA: "You're going where?" said the cab driver, cocking his ear to the back seat.
"Africa," I replied for the second time.
"Why?" he said, his voice curious.
"To see the animals," I replied.
"Why don't you go to the zoo?" he said. By the sound of his voice he may have wanted to add the word, "dummy" but he didn't.
The rest of the ride to the airport was silent.
I thought about it a few days later and laughed underneath my breath.
That was because at that moment I found myself surrounded by more than 100 elephants in the African bush. Wild elephants, big elephants, little elephants, elephants that didn't look so happy to see human beings.
There were eight of us in our open vehicle, including two guides armed with big, mean looking guns. The chief instruction from our guide, Conrad, had been "don't run. If you run a lion or another predator is likely to chase you. They think you're game."
We sat silently as the herd's leaders (the biggest female elephants) blocked our vehicle front and rear, not 25 feet away. They flapped their huge ears, pawed at the dirt and basically I heard them saying, "Don't move or we'll kick your butt."
"An elephant can turn over a car," said Conrad. That was comforting.
After a 15-minute standoff the herd began to move away - slowly. Lisa released the death grip on my hand (she would later bring back dried elephant meat for her co-workers and customers to sample, but fortunately none of the aforementioned elephants were aware of that as wise as they may be).
A few minutes later we were at the scene of a lion kill. We sat not 25 feet away again as half a dozen lions made noisy supper out of a wildebeest.
"Close your eyes and listen," said Lisa, excitedly.
Crunch (bones cracking and breaking), crunch, crunch. The Lions paid us no attention. Thankfully. Occasionally, they find a shirt and a pair of shoes in the bush here and there, and nothing else. Lions like human meat once they taste it. "After all, we're pretty soft and tender compared to what they usually eat," explained a Ranger, grinning.
The cab driver doesn't have a clue. I have covered wild-and-woolly nightlife for 30 years but you haven't lived until you've spent a night in the wild surrounded by creatures who can eat you.
A few days later Lisa and I drove for four hours through South Africa's magnificent Kruger Park and encountered only a handful of other cars.
The rest was just us and wild animals. No fences, no humans. Total nature.
Tall graceful giraffes crossed the road. Zebras grazed everywhere. A group of a dozen velvet monkeys darted in front us. Two big fat rhinos lounged near the road. Giant bull elephants, who hang by themselves, moved across the landscape with no enemies except man. Thousands and thousands of impala and other antelope I couldn't identify. "Daily bread for the predators," explained a guide of the latter.
Lisa had been searching for a leopard, maybe the most elusive and solitary of them all. And then, suddenly, there he was moving laterally to us through the bush maybe a 100 yards away. We watched for a minute as he moved majestically and then as quickly he was gone. Leopards live solitary lives and drag their prey into trees. "A few months ago one dropped out of a tree and killed a woman," a guide had explained earlier. If you are in Africa, you might want to look up...
I had dreamed about seeing all this for most of my life and in person it was even more than my child's mind had imagined. I got to spend three nights in a jungle tree house 40 feet above the ground, built with no nails and with only peeping-tom giraffes to worry about.
And if the thought of the bush and jungle turns you off, you'd be surprised to know that Cape Town, South Africa is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Situated between magnificent Table Mountain and the Atlantic Ocean, it is often compared with San Francisco, except the beaches are somewhere between Fort Lauderdale and South Beach. South Africans are friendly people who want you to enjoy their country.
A few minutes away is wine country with vineyards dating back to the 1700s.
And you'll be happy to know that a beer or a glass of quality wine in a Cape Town restaurant or pub goes for 10 or 11 Rand, South African currency. That's about a $1.25 U.S. A meal for two in best restaurants with a bottle of fine wine is $35.
I'll drink to that. And buy the elephants and lions a round too.
Just one sexy restaurant with dancing, please
by ron hudspeth
Observations after 30 years of rugged research:
•Downtown remains a dud and the problem is still the same. No street life - shops, restaurants, pubs, sidewalk cafes - and no residents. Aquariums, coliseums and such will not change that. And you know what? That's OK. There is nothing magic about downtown and it doesn't have to be. It's just a bunch of big tall buildings doing business, folks.
•It says realms about current single lifestyle in Atlanta that ever other person I know has gone on a computer looking for someone to date. Sad testimony, I'm afraid.
•Read the other day they're gonna synchronize Atlanta's traffic signals. According to my records, this will be the 33rd year they have tried without any success.
•Show me a bar with big burly guys out front in suits with a velvet rope and I'll show you a place for losers.
•Is it just me, or does Atlanta's weather seem to get wackier each year?
•In 1973 Atlanta men ruled. In 2003 Atlanta women rule. Better? The jury is still out. Sorry, guys, there are more women on the jury than men and more women in law school than men.
•Are you a 30-year-old guy bored with your lot in Atlanta, but have a few dollars saved up? Grab a couple buddies, go to Cuba and investment in an old building in Old Havana. Build out a bar-restaurant downstairs and make yourself a loft apartment upstairs. It would be the adventure of a lifetime in one of the world's greatest cities, a fascinating 500-year-old place that in the coming years will be one of the hottest destinations on the planet.
•With all the uptightness about terrorists in the United States, Americans are traveling even less. And that's sad. Only 14 per cent of Americans have passports in the first place and the truth is if you haven't seen the world, you are less than educated.
•The older you get the more you will realize that Bill loves Mary and Mary loves Joe and Joe loves Cindy and Cindy loves Hank and Hank loves Susie... and that males and females have a hard time getting it together.
•In all my years in Atlanta it's beyond me that there's never been a sexy and romantic restaurant with live music for dining and dancing. Done correctly, it would be a smash hit.
•Cape Town, South Africa is not only one of the most beautiful cities in the world - sandwiched between spectacular mountains and the ocean in a dream-like San Francisco atmosphere - but is a wonderful shock to the wallet. A dinner for two at the best restaurants with an ocean view and a bottle of tasty South African wine ($6) sets you back $40. However, in case you were going to zip there for a weekend be warned the non-stop flight from Atlanta to Cape Town is 14 hours and 50 minutes, one of the longest in the world.
•Nice to hear the news the Chattahoochee River is gradually being unpolluted. Oldtimers recall the wonderful springtime Ramblin' Raft Race with 50,000 folks floating down the river in various states of dress and undress in joyous celebration of life while another 300,000 party types crowded the banks. Great memories before "just say no to fun" became a lifestyle for much of Atlanta.
•Americans work too much and don't have enough vacation. The irony is most Americans think the rest of the world does the same. Nope. Europeans and others take eight to 10 weeks of vacation a year. Me? I prefer about 40.
•Let's hear it for Norcross. It has joined the 21st century. After a close vote, bars and restaurants can pour real booze. Who knows? Before long you may be able to drink a margarita on Sunday afternoon in downtown Cumming.
•Just a personal judgment, but cocaine use is now at all-time high among party people, nearly topping the levels of the early '80s when it was considered a totally harmless pastime. Just another example of failed American drug policy. Decriminalize and treat people who abuse 'em. It's the only way it will work.
•So want ever happened to Gary McKee? Just kidding. I know he's out there in the suburbs somewhere.
•Caught a show at Chastain the other night. It is still light years ahead of anything else of entertainment value in Atlanta, our answer to Wrigley Field in atmosphere and fun. Recently sold my house near there and miss the music filtering through the air in the night unlike the jerks who live around it and complain.
•It is amazing that after almost 40 years the Swinging Medallions still remain the best party band in these parts.
•I ran four or five Peachtree Road Races. I emphasize RAN. Anyone walking in the July 4th event, shouldn't be allowed in it. It is a not an event for walkers, of which the last 10,000 or so in the event in the recent years have been.
•Yes, Vince Dooley is a nice man, Georgia fans. But everything changes. This will all be forgotten especially if next fall's Bulldogs are, say, about 11-0.
Saying 'goodbye' to a unique Atlanta icon
by ron hudspeth
In memory of Robert Blake Harper 1939 - 2003
Disc jockeys have enormous egos.
Bobby Harper was the most unusual disc jockey I ever met.
He had no ego.
Harper, who died July 22 from cancer at Emory Hospital, was a friend for 30 years and an Atlanta icon. I will miss him, as will a large group of Bobby's buddies, who were close to this unique man who marched to his on unusual and marvelous beat.
He was a true character.
Ever dreamed of being a disc jockey?
Well, Harper was the disc jockey's disc jockey.
He experienced it all.
The ups (as one of Atlanta's top-rated morning disc jockey's).
The downs (he was fired so many times he couldn't count 'em.)
After 30+ years in the business, Bobby Harper truly ranked as a radio legend.
It was Harper who inspired producer Hugh Wilson to create the Johnny Fever character for television's hit series, WKRP in Cincinnati.
And how many disc jockeys do you know who promoted a Beatles concert and got tossed in jail for it?
That was back in Cincinnati in 1964. Harper had his first big disc jockey job at WING in nearby Dayton and he and four other deejays promoted a rock concert for a new mop-haired group from England called the Beatles.
"We were worried because we were going to put the tickets on sale in April and the concert wasn't until August. We couldn't figure if the Beatles would still be hot in August," Harper recounted.
The concert at Cincinnati Gardens was a sellout and Harper's take was $5,000, the most money he'd ever made in one wad in his life.
He immediately purchased a brand new midnight blue Thunderbird and began to run up speeding tickets.
"I had a glove compartment full of 'em when they finally caught me," remembered Harper.
A judge, obviously not a lover of disc jockeys, threw the book at Harper.
"I sentence you to three weeks in jail," said the judge.
Harper pleaded that he had a shot at a new job in Atlanta.
"OK," said the judge, "eight days, if you'll get out of town."
The next day Harper found himself in a prisoner's uniform working alongside the highway.
"My old boss at the Dayton stations, who had said he would have to fire me if I went to jail, actually rode by in his white Cadillac, blew the horn and waved."
When he got out, Harper packed his bags and rode into Atlanta.
He went to work at the old WPLO, which was in a battle with WQXI for the city's rock-n-roll audience and losing.
Harper was there for several months, then the station changed to country. He was fired.
"The first time you get fired it really hurts, but after awhile you build up the scar tissue. The first time you say, 'Oh, my God, what am I gonna do?' The second time you say, 'not again!' The third time you say, 'well, surely I'll find another one.' The fourth time it's, 'well, it'll only be a little while before I have another job.' That's where I got 'they can kill you, but they can't eat you' from. A great phrase huh?"
Bobby Harper first sensed he might want to be an announcer of sorts as a 10-year-old in the cold Northwest country of Canada where he grew up. Harper would walk around the streets of Regina Beach, a little farming community, pretending to be a hockey announcer.
"I would cup my hand behind my ear and pretend to be holding a microphone," Harper had laughed.
It wasn't, however, until he got to William Jewell College in Kansas that he got his chance.
"I wasn't much of a student," Harper had recalled. "Those were innocent years, but all we did was play poker, chase girls, drink beer and make C's in our classes."
But he did begin reading the news over the college's PA system and when someone said, "hey, you've got a great voice for radio," a career was born.
Before long Harper walked into a local radio station and asked for a job. To his surprise, they hired him as the weekend deejay, "I was making a $1 an hour and on the radio," he had recalled, with a twinkle in his eye.
From there, the nomadic life began. Four months at a Des Moines station. Six months in St. Joseph's. Six months in Peoria. And, finally, to Dayton, his first job at a big station.
Later, there would be stops at such diverse places as Fort Wayne, Buffalo, Detroit and Kansas City.
Even though jobs twice carried him to other cities, Atlanta became his first love.
"I don't want to leave this place," he had said.
He has done time at almost every radio station in Atlanta.
In the late '60s he was such a controversial early morning man at WQXI, he was fired. Later, he did stints at WGST, 96-Rock, WLTA and the now-defunct WIIN and WCNN.
He joined WSB in February of '85 to do afternoons when morning man, Russ Spooner, was fired. When Spooner's successor, Dick Hemby, was canned, Harper moved into the morning slot, where, along with sidekicks Kathy Fischman and Brad Nessler, he had become a morning staple for thousands of commuting Atlantans.
Harper worked WSB-AM in the mornings from 1985 to 1991 and it would be his last on-air job. He later joined the corporate communications office of Delta Air Lines and then worked for MARTA and Underground Atlanta before retiring.
The older Harper had mellowed. No longer did he sit atop billboards, dive into vats of jello or pose nude (with an album cover strategically positioned to keep the vice squad from raiding) as he did for Apartment Scene Magazine in the early '70s.
Harper was single for many years and his first love always remained his daughter, Chrissie.
Back in the late '70s Harper almost took a high-paying job at a Detroit station and told his young daughter about it. "We were sitting there crying over a broken toy, but we were really crying over me going to Detroit," he recalled. "I knew then I couldn't go."
Detroit's loss was Atlanta's gain.
A toast to 'happy' days in the Big 'A'
by ron hudspeth
Seventeen years! Seventeen?
I spent 17 years pounding a typewriter (yes, a Royal manual, thank you) for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
Now I begin my 34th fall staring into a computer terminal for the hudspeth report.
That's 34 years in a city that was once the biggest party town in America. Bar none. And that certainly includes New York and Los Angeles.
Back in the 1980s I asked Peter Gatien, the Canadian who made millions running the infamous Limelight , what made Atlanta such a special place.
"Atlantans are happy with themselves," said Gatien, without hesitation.
Indeed, happy people were the key to the city.
Happy people were easy to find. There was even something called Happy Hour and I confess I never found anything but happy people there. It is no longer legal in Atlanta.
Some of the happy memories are so outrageous, I sometimes wonder if they really happened. But I wasn't the only one to witness them.
A few of the memories (crazy as they may be):
•Sixty thousand people (some of them clothed) floating in every kind of raft imaginable down the Chattahoochee on a spring day while another 300,000 lined the river banks. No one complained about the traffic, the nudity, the tipsy people, the environment or, come to think of it, anything. Politically incorrect? You better believe it.
•Crawling under the freight cars parked on the adjacent railroad tracks downtown to take a short cut into the original Underground Atlanta where you could eat and drink all-day and all-night for $5 (tip included) at The Bucket Shop. Fortunately, the train never lurched forward as we hustled under it on our hands and knees or you wouldn't be reading this.
•Being part of the crowd that descended upon downtown Atlanta for something called Light Up Atlanta. Thanks to the power of radio station WQXI (now Star 94) some 400,000 packed in to party and witness spectacular fireworks. Somewhere in the backroom of a store in Little Five Points today, there may be a dusty poster of the moment.
•Sailing off on the annual Love Boat cruise (also hyped by WQXI) to the Caribbean, a trip that surely lived up to its name. Some 500 single Atlanta females and males annually made the trip. This was no reality TV show, but the real thing. The boat ran out of beer and each night amorous couples, scrambling for privacy, filled up the ship's lifeboats.
•Could you imagine today's Braves organization throwing a wet T-shirt contest? Well, the Braves I covered did. I was a judge as 20 beauties stood along the first base line and were hosed to drenched proportions by a happy member of the Braves' grounds' crew as about 10,000 drunken college kids guzzled free beer. Score one more for politically incorrectness.
•Even lousy weather was cause for party. The famous Snowjam blast of 1982 began when a violent snowstorm hit Atlanta in mid-afternoon, paralyzing the city, and stranding everyone. People abandoned their cars in the middle of streets and parties broke out all over town. The original Longhorn on Peachtree was about to close for good after only a few months' operation, but did so much business that night, owner George McKerrow, Jr., never looked back and the rest is history. There was even rumors of a party at a Spring Street funeral parlor where stranded motorists crawled into caskets to sleep and, well, you get the picture.
•Party was the name of the game at apartment complexes across the city. Apartment complexes that only rented to adults and banned children because in those days Atlanta was an adult Disneyland. The Saturday afternoon pool was the focal point and for the price of a phone call companies like Rums of Puerto Rico would deliver gallons of rum and mixer free of charge.
•Instead of frowning bouncer-types in suits at the door behind velvet ropes, clubs like Uncle Sam's attracted customers with penny beer nights. Yea, beer for a penny. Who says a penny saved isn't a beer earned?
At any rate, a toast to 34 years in the Big A.
May you have a happy day.
Curling up for this special season
by ron hudspeth
The leaves float to the road ahead and scatter wildly in the wake of your auto.
The crisp, cool morning air has that special fresh nip that causes you to take a deep breath and suck it inward. Autumn is upon us.
Nice autumn.
January and February winter may eventually depress us with its ugly cold and bleakness, but October and November autumn is a gentle time.
A Southern autumn has its own special sights, sounds and smells.
The favorite sweater is out of the closet and feels good, even if it is creased and musty smelling from a summer's folding and storage.
Life seems to become vividly distinct. Hot morning coffee smells and tastes better.
Aromas are in - steaming chili, hot soup, buttered popcorn and a freshly dipped candied apple.
Suddenly, the kitchen floor is cold mornings and socks feel good. Get out the electric blanket, order the firewood, and take the plant out of the fireplace. Is there a more secure and comforting sight than smoke curling from a chimney on a crisp morning?
Coziness is suddenly in.
Atlanta has changed dramatically in the past 25 years, exploding to 4.5 million human beings, but one thing hasn't changed. Single people remain the city's special barometer that autumn has arrived. They flock to the bars and pubs in October and November like no other time and the reason is obvious: The search for a warm, comforting human being to hibernate with through the impending cold winter.
It is high season for the city's hospitality industry. You'll see more smiles on the faces of owners of the city's pubs and restaurants. The sobering fact is if the cash registers don't ring now, they're not likely to later.
We need each other this time of year because it is the season of nostalgia. What other time of year would the mind turn to such pursuits as hay rides, bonfires and weenie roasts? Simple happenings take us back to the basics. To childhood, to the security of family, to a time of innocence and naiveté a long time gone.
Halloween is upon us and what better symbol of autumns past? Surely mom sewed you a patched hobo outfit from old rags. What can I be this Halloween - a witch, a skeleton, a devil? Trick or treating and tons of sticky, gooey candy to be stored for weeks in the refrigerator until mother rebelled and tossed it out.
Somehow it is not the same for kids today. The costumes are too sophisticated and any child who trick or treats today must do it under armed guard, thanks to the weirdos among us.
Adults, in fact, have taken Halloween from the kids. It is now the No. 1 adult holiday, surpassing New Year's Eve. If you don't believe it, truck on down to Key West for Fantasy Fest.
Georgia's autumns are the nicest. The leaves explode into a rainbow of colors even within the city limits. Try to find something similar in New York or Philadelphia. Atlanta is the home-office for trees.
Witnessing the autumn spectacle in the city is somehow not enough. We are drawn to the whole scope of it in the mountains, as if viewing it on a mini-set is not enough and we must have a wide screen. Mountain roads will be bumper to bumper this month as human beings, ironically, search for nostalgic tranquillity.
If spring is Atlanta's finest time, autumn is its first cousin. You can ship Atlanta's ugly depressing winters to Birmingham and its sticky summers to Charlotte, but I'll keep spring and autumn, thank you.
Flip off the artificial air in your car, roll down the window and feel the chill on the cheeks. On a clear day, peer up at the sky. It is bluer than Carolina's. Take an extra gulp of the air. I don't have scientific instruments but it must be cleaner than any other time of the year.
Old autumn's a pretty nice fellow. I wish he could stick around until spring.
These are but a few of the many festivals throughout Georgia in the month of October. Please call ahead to confirm information.
•October 2003: Oktoberfest (entire month) in Helen, concludes November 1st. Every year since 1970 Georgia's most famous Oktoberfest transforms tranquil Helen into the ultimate north Georgia party town. Visit www.helenga.org or call 706.878.2181 for more information.
•October 2003 (every weekend): For four weekends each October, the community of Cherry Log, just north of Ellijay, celebrates the harvest with the Cherry Log Festival. For more info call 706.635.1933.
•October 2nd, 3rd & 4th Weekends: In 1995 the Sorghum Festival in Blairsville was designated Georgia's official sorghum festival. While Fort Sorghum is the centerpiece of the festival, the parade that begins this three week extravaganza is far and away the most popular event. Bluegrass music, cloggers and other forms of entertainment enhance the event, which features a wide array of artists and craftsmen who sell handmade goods.
•October 2 - 12: Cumming County Fair & Festival, 235 Castleberry Road, Cumming. Featuring concerts by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, America, Darryl Worley and Confederate Railroad. For complete information and activities, call 770.781.3491.
•October 3 - 12: Georgia National Fair, Perry, GA., Brooks & Dunn in the Reaves Arena, Saturday, October 4th, 7:30 p.m; Monster Truck Mania, October 7 & 8; Jupiter Coyote, Laney Strickland Band and The Kinchafoonee Cowboys for College Night Concert October 10th: Hootie & The Blowfish., October 11th; Tickets purchased in advance only, include gate admission to the Fair, 478.987.3247, 800.987.3247.
•October 4 & 5: Andersonville Historic Fair, Andersonville, GA. Reenactments, antiques, Civil War sutlers, arts and crafts and period entertainment make this a special event for the history buff. Call 229.924.2558 for information.
•October 4 & 5: The Cotton Pickin' Fair, Gay, GA. The 57th edition of this festival of antiques, arts and crafts. East side of Georgia Highway 85. Saturday 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.; Sunday 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Adults $5, Children $2, 706.538.6814.
•October 10-19: Georgia Mountain Fall Festival, Hiawassee, GA. Take a walk back into the past and visit a mountain village of yesteryear. The craft area featuring over 60 craftsmen will be open daily. Enjoy the best of the hill country's pickers and singers, Nashville talent, bluegrass and gospel singing. Enjoy the beautiful mountains of North Georgia during the "peak" leaf season. Admission is $7.00, children 10 and under are free. For more information 706.896.4191.
•October 11: Fall Line Festival, Talbotton, GA. From 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. there will be Arts & Crafts, a Classic Car Show, Pony Rides, Good Food and Entertainment for all ages, 706.665.8079.
•October 11: 23rd Annual Mule Day Festival, Washington, GA., Callaway Plantation. Enjoy the traditional arts and crafts fair along with exhibitions of primitive crafters demonstrating arts of the past. Festival hours are from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m. Admission is $5.00 for adults, $3.00 for children ages 5-12 and free for children age 4 and under. Free parking and courtesy carts will assist you from the parking area to the festival grounds, 706.678.2013.
•October 11-12: Prater's Mill Country Fair, Varnell, GA. The 30th Anniversary at 500 Prater's Mill Road, Georgia Highway 2, ten miles northeast of Dalton, GA. There will be arts and crafts, fun activities, country cooking, entertainment and much more in this historical setting. Admission is $5, children 12 and under admitted free. For more info e-mail pratersmill@dalton.net or 706.694.MILL (6455).
•October 11 - 12 & 18 - 19: 32nd Annual Georgia Apple Festival, Ellijay, GA. Great arts and crafts, enjoy the parade and watch the children play in the special "children's " section. The festival will begin on both Saturdays at 9 a.m. and last until 6 p.m. and on both Sundays from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. Admission is $5 for adults and children under 10 are free. Parking is free, 706.636.4500.
•October 17 & 18: Annual Harvest Festival, Donalsonville, GA, Southwest Georgia. This two-day event will feature continuous entertainment from gospel to rock and roll, arts and crafts to vintage cars! Be sure not to miss the Fiddling Contests and many other contests that will be held throughout the weekend! 229.524.2588.
•October 18 & 19: Gold Rush Days Festival and Auraria Gold Festival, Dahlonega. The largest arts and creafts festival in the northeast Georgia Mountains with over 300 arts and crafts booths. Activities include traditional mountian festivities such as hog calling, liar's contest, crosscut sawing, clogging, buck dancing along with bluegrass and gospel music. 706.864.3711 or 800.231.5543 or visit www.dahlonega.org.
•October 18-19: Mossy Creek Barnyard Festival, Warner Robins, GA. Pioneer skills such as building wooden canoes, carving working decoys, handcrafting and teaching mountain dulcimers. Fine arts and crafts from 26 states. Music of gospel and country bands, autoharp, honky-tonk piano, special dancers, folk songs. Storytelling, magic and ventriloquism in Fantasy Forest, hayrides, country cooking. 478.922.8265.
•October 25 & 26: City of Smyrna's Spring Jonquil Festival Spring. The Jonquil Festivals are located on the beautiful Village Green in downtown Smyrna. There will be 150 arts & crafts booths, 10 food booths, and plenty of children's activities. The show will also feature a local entertainment stage. Show hours are 10 AM -6 PM on Saturday and 12 Noon - 5 PM on Sunday. Admission is $ 1.00 children under 12 as well as senior citizens are admitted FREE
•October 25 & 26: 36th Annual Mountain Moonshine Festival. Dawsonville, GA. Festivities start Friday night at 6:00 p.m. with a cruise-in at Thunder Road USA. Saturday at 8:00 a.m. the crafts booths, food vendors and entertainment will begin downtown. The Parade starts at 10:00 a.m. with a Bicycle Tour and a "NASCAR" celebrity as Grand Marshall. 706.216.7827.
•October 28: Haunting at the Hall., Roswell, GA. Come dressed in ghastly attire, play fun games, earn prizes, listen to a storyteller, win best costume prizes, and enjoy ghostly refreshments. The fun begins at 6:00 p.m. and admission is $6.00 per person. For reservations call 770.992.1731.
Atlanta's searching for an identity
by ron hudspeth
This town of mine keeps reinventing itself. Don't blink or you'll miss it.
The thought hit me the other night while riding out to the new Gwinnett Coliseum to catch a concert by Mana, the most popular Latino rock band in the world.
A concert in a huge arena in Gwinnett, not that far removed from a cow pasture, is mind boggling enough. But to see 13,000 Latinos, well-dressed and mannered, cheering and rockin' to the music and realizing I am among a minority of about half a dozen gringos in the building. Whoa, Nellie.
And this is Atlanta?
Sure enough, Scarlett.
Atlanta is a synonym for change. Always has been, always will be. Not so in other places. Visited New York a few weeks ago and it is the same concrete and human jungle, albeit a bit cleaner than I recalled. New York absorbs you without noticing. Come to Atlanta and you're swept up in an ongoing work that, truthfully, doesn't have a clue where it's headed. Hold on, brother and grasp for your piece of this rolling stone.
That can be fun or mindboggling.
Take Buckhead, for example.
This place that has always been Atlanta's Beverly Hills is now a ludicrous work in turmoil and progress.
By nights street toughs in auto parade have taken over its East Village area heart and turned it into a semi-war zone. By day, hard hat workers arrive to nail up more skyscraper apartments and condos with price tags that would choke the average Atlantan of twenty years ago.
In the meantime, the Lenox-Phipps area tends to glitter and explode. The truth is Buckhead, which used to be East Village, has reinvented itself there. Atlanta is going to have its slick, mind you. The impression is in the next 20 years the Lenox-Phipps phenom will double back to envelope the East Village quadrant, thus again making itself the place to be in this city for the real movers and shakers.
Meanwhile, those who live in the far north and suburban reaches of this sprawling mass of humanity and automobiles, could care less. They have new life 30 miles away in places like Alpharetta where the restaurants, clubs and social amenities have followed. Why in the hell drive to Buckhead when you got it down the block?
When I rode into Atlanta 34 years ago it numbered about 1.5 million, give or take a stray dog or two. Now it's racing toward 5 million. That's too many. After about 2 million, the rest of humanity becomes a hassle and a waste. The truth is, even if you've been a social butterfly to the extreme, of which I have been accused of at times, no way you're gonna meet a million folks in a lifetime.
Atlanta, of course, could care less. Unlike a New York, Atlanta continues to spread in all directions like a huge glob from a science fiction movie, gobbling up places like Cumming and Fayetteville and threatening to one day envelope Macon, Greenville, S.C. and Chattanooga. Don't laugh.
Those of us who have been here awhile yearn for the softer and wilder (yes, it was) Atlanta of the 1970s, but that is gone with the wind, and to sit around happy bars in the city and reminisce about those days is to be painted a huge bore. The new Atlantan has been here about 18 months and could care less.
He or she considers Atlanta to be a mecca. A mecca to make a fortune, although only a small percentage eventually manage to get rich. Atlanta, as coined by the Wall Street Journal 20 years ago, has always been "The Big Hustle." Business is what it's about and that's one constant that hasn't changed. Along with beautiful women, but that's another column.
Do I love Atlanta? Yes. Is Atlanta a great town? Well, after seeing the Capetowns and Amsterdams of this world, I would say it needs a simple asterik with the notation, "A work in progress. Check back in about 50 years."
OK, smart mouth, you're saying about now: What does Atlanta need to be a great town?
It hit me the other day in a mother-of-all-traffic jams around the Buckhead Loop as automobiles with seething drivers gridlocked in all directions.
Atlanta will be a great town the day you don't need a car to live in it. Love 'em or hate 'em, Atlanta is a silly car town where guys and girls think a fancy car is an extension of their body parts.
Fortunately, if you and I could pop back into Atlanta in, say, 100 years, that will have all changed. Playing will be an exhibition of the archaic metal monsters called automobiles at the High Museum.
Those 2103 Atlantans will be zipping around on computer-guided magic carpets at mach speeds that will get you from Roswell to East Atlanta in two and a half minutes flat.
No problem. All you gotta do is keep breathing to see it.
Again, Atlanta is missing the point
by ron hudspeth
If human beings weren't dying, this Buckhead thing would be amusing.
Amusing because no one&emdash;blacks nor whites&emdash;can get to the heart of the matter. Not surprisingly, race polarizes the issue.
It isn't about bar hours.
It isn't about whites killing blacks.
It isn't about blacks killing whites.
It is about blacks killing blacks.
White leaders are silent because they are afraid anything they mutter would be branded racist.
Black leaders are silent because they're afraid of being branded some kind of Uncle Tom: After all no one in Buckhead seems to care if blacks kill one another in a Southside bar, should it only be important in Buckhead?
Thus, the convoluted and veiled solution to the recent murders within Buckhead's nightlife misses the point.
Instead it is focusing on bar hours. As I pound the computer keys on this piece, the City Council is threatening to close all bars at 2 a.m.
Okay, if the issue is bar hours, I have a better solution:
Close all bars at midnight.
Yes, midnight.
I can hear all the bar and restaurant owners (many who are my best buddies) crying out loud in unison: Hudspeth have you lost your marbles! You, of all people, who has spent the past 30 years researching every honky tonk from Alpharetta to Fayetteville. Cut him off. He's had one too many.
Here me out.
The entire Atlanta nightlife scene is in dire need of a major overhaul.
In recent years, Atlanta has somehow lost its great party town reputation. From a once happy-go-lucky place where people poured out of office towers to unwind after work in wonderful social networking, it became a place where no one goes out until 11 p.m. or later.
And anyone who has researched Atlanta's after-dark social life for as long as I have, can tell you three things happen to you when you party in the wee hours. And two of them are bad.
The sad truth is that no one meets anyone at 1 a.m or later. Most are too drunk or drugged. Painted ladies cavort on the dance floor and mostly tease today's men. The latest killings were over a woman. It is no coincidence that today's women rule. That, of course, is another column.
If everything shut down at midnight, it would force people to go out early&emdash;even after work to socialize. Real people would meet real people. People would be forced to communicate and yes, even have manners. It's difficult to be a "I'm a too cool bad-ass" at 8 p.m., but amazingly easy to have that attitude at 3 a.m. That goes for guys and girls.
I've been doing it long enough to tell you five or six hours of partying is enough. The rest is overkill.
The most obvious is that Atlanta is a 9-to-5 working town. Okay, you're the original party animal. Get out there and go like a wild bandit from 6 to midnight. Then pack it in. Hey, dude, you got just got a full night's partying in and you got eight hours sleep too. How 'bout that? Amazingly, you won't fall asleep on your computer.
Of course, all that makes too much sense. There is little about Atlanta these days that makes much sense.
"I bartend at a bar out in Gwinnett," a young lady told me the other night, "and on Thursdays we have Bosnia night. The whole place is packed with people from Bosnia."
This is a ever-evolving melting pot and folks from different cultures have different ways of letting of steam and enjoying an evening.
I am fully aware no one is going to close Atlanta's bars at midnight. That would force people to get out early and really socialize. Won't happen.
So, the real solution is to have no hours.
Let's open everything 24 hours (I can hear the collective sigh of relief from bar and restaurant owners). This is a free country, isn't it, or at least it used to be? Makes no sense to tell someone they can't have a drink on 10 a.m. Sunday if they want.
I live part of my life on the Pacific Ocean in Costa Rica. We don't have many rules. You can have a margarita for breakfast. My golden retriever hangs out with when I drink a cold one at the local watering hole. Women hitchhike all over the country. And, if you must, you can watch the sunrise at one beach bar.
Know how nice that is?