We had friends in from Atlanta this past weekend, and it was fun to see the city through their eyes. Carol actually worked here at the paper 30 years ago, so she had that perspective.
Needless to say, the city is quite a bit different today. A big night out for her back then meant a full evening at the Pickle Barrel. Nothing wrong with that, but there are more choices now.
Barry CourterHer husband, Steve, has visited here on a few brief occasions.
They rented an Airbnb on Mitchell Street, and when Steve pulled out a piece of paper containing recommended places to visit, he was more than happy to learn how close everything was. Of the eight or 10 places on the list, we could see at least the rooftops of all but two from Mitchell Street.
On the list were eateries such as Stir, Neidlov's, Feed Company Table & Tavern, The Flying Squirrel, The Terminal, Bluegrass Grill and a couple of microbreweries, including Hutton & Smith, the only place that would require an Uber or a very short car ride. We walked to The Terminal for lunch, then headed over to Wayne-O-Rama.
On Saturday, we drove Missionary Ridge - because it's beautiful and they'd never seen the views from there - before heading back to Station Street. We had drinks at Back Stage before the show, then walked to The Flying Squirrel.
It would appear the plan to make the Southside the center of entertainment for adults is working, and it was interesting to see it in action, especially through the eyes of out-of-towners. At one point, Steve said, "The only thing missing here is the beach."
In addition to eating and drinking our way through downtown, we did a lot of laughing, and only partly because we saw James Gregory at The Comedy Catch. Mostly we laughed because my friend is funny.
For example, the last time she was here, we met for drinks at The Flying Squirrel and found a table on the patio by the door. At some point, she turned her head to the left and found herself looking straight into the face of a Great Dane. Obviously surprised, she laughed, saying "Oh," which the giant beast must have interpreted as an invitation to get to know each other better because he stuck his tongue in her mouth.
The dog's owner quickly pulled on the leash and moved him behind my friend toward a rear table. Without missing a beat, my friend hollered back over her shoulder at the retreating Great Dane, "Call me."
Contact Barry Courter at bcourter@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6354.