While I have flown into the Atlanta international numerous times, sadly is the furthest I have set foot into Georgia. Apparently, The Sweet Georgia Juke Joint at 200 Peachtree is trying to recreate the juke joints of juke joints past and like the Venice hotel and New York New York in Las Vegas, the Atlanta International airport's Sweet Georgia Juke Joint tried its best to retain the magic of the original, but only copy of a copy. At 8 am, while I was shoveling ...

Home!

Maybe it was the threat of SARs, or bird flu, the H1N1 or the consistent stories of smog but the flight over to Beijing was empty. I should have booked a seat in the middle section because those folks had three seats a piece. I am glad that I did not upgrade to "economy plus" because that section was nearly full. Poor b******s. I hoped none of them turned their heads toward the rear of the plane to see all the economy class laid out in full stretch across empty s...

I am writing this travel log six months after the fact from my notes hand written while traveling. This is solely in response to a commitment made to myself back when I was nineteen: When I travel, I journal. Now at forty it is tough to come close to my nineteen year old expectations. I mean twenty years ago my travel journal was going to be my bridge to fame, my nugget of incite to be found by curious grandkids…now, twenty-one years later as I write this a...