Spring break

Spring break's over for me. The big element of this year's spring break was a trip Tuesday to the Georgia Aquarium, the world's largest aquarium, and much bigger than the aquariums in which I used to house my goldfish. Cleaner, too.

I expected a crowd and got one. No big deal. Only problem was that every person in the world has a digital camera or camera phone these days and everybody going through the aquarium had to stop every 12 feet to take a photo. We came to look at the exhibits; everybody else came to have their photos taken in front of exhibits and didn't care about blocking a whole window while hundreds of people waited ... so they could take their picture in front of the window.

The Georgia Aquarium is an amazing place, but it would be nice if they had designated spots for photography. It would be nicer if everyone wasn't so self-centered and was more considerate these days, but that ain't happening. The most exciting part of that day was a near-miss with the fatal shooting at CNN Center, which happened minutes after we had lunch there.

From there, we were off to a cabin near the old home place and then Wild Adventures in Valdosta. It's kind of like Six Flags except the lines are much shorter and you don't feel price-gouged around every corner. Plus Valdosta (where I worked 1991-93 as a sportswriter) has some of the nicest folks you'll ever meet. It's a beautiful town, and if the newspaper hadn't been owned by a terrible company (which sold the paper away nearly a decade ago), I might have spent my entire career there.

From there, it was back to my old stomping grounds of Americus where I also worked at its newspaper (1989 & 1993-97) and went to college at Georgia Southwestern (1988-91). Americus is a town full of characters and great places to eat, such as Pat's Place, Monroe's Hot Dogs, the Forsyth Bar & Grill and my friend Paul's place, The Station, between the Rylander Theatre and the Windsor Hotel. The Station is my favorite restaurant, and not just because it has the best fried cheese grits and blackened grouper in the world. If you go, tell Paul I sent ya. Maybe he'll give me a free fried cheese grit next time I go.

I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. It's not as quiet as the cabin (though there's always a chance you'll hear that screaming growl of one of the last black panthers in Georgia who prowls the area).

Starting Sunday, my nose will be back to the grindstone, which is why it'll look a little flatter come Monday.