Augusta in the limelight

Wow, it's been a while since I last posted. Good thing, too. Seems like I usually blog about shit happening in my life.

Well, life's been good. Enjoying the hard-earned house. Learned a new dessert - Lemon Ginger Cake with Blackberry Curd Filling. Doesn't that sound so Junior League or whatever those frou-frou ladies' club is called in Georgia?

Ah yes, the headline. The Wall Street Journal in the 8/21 or 22 issue profiled Augusta, Ga., as the dreamy retirement city. And it took up half the Berlin-sized page. Nothing against Augusta. I love you folks, I still have my house there. But, for those unsuspecting foreigners, the article made Augusta out to be the Bahamas of the South. When they wax poetic about the medical complexes, the "short" distance to mountains, and big cities, and oh, the Riverwalk. The Riverwalk's not bad, but it ain't the one at San Antonio, for crissake.

Ask Damon Cline for the past issue. No more than 3 days from today.

That's all, folks. Take care.

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Christina: "Short" distance to mountains???? What do they term short? It's at least two to three hours to the Georgia ones, and more than that to South Carolina/North Carolina...
That cake sounds like heaven...

Jeremy: Augusta is more like the Pittsburgh of the South, except hotter than a blast furnace from April through October, and sometimes November.

Patrick: You know, I've heard that of all the rust-belt cities (Cleveland, Detroit, Allentown, Springfield, Mass, Hartford) Pittsburgh has rebounded the best, and is actually a decent place to live. I never thought I'd say this, but for once, I agree with the Wall Street Journal. I mean, I haven't read the story, so I don't know if they went overboard (I'll wager sure they did), but I can see how Augusta would be a decent place to while away the last years of your life.

Or to put it another way, it's a lot better than some of the typical retirement destinations in Florida, that ultimate geriatric playground. The day I stopped looking down at Augusta was the day I visited Ocala, Florida, which is the kind of place where you only go there to die. There was no history, no culture, no center of gravity, no waterfront--just miles upon miles of strip malls, swamps, chain restaurants and gated-off retirement colonies where grandchildren can visit but never, EVER live.

Then again, Augusta ain't no Bahamas either. I'm just happy my parents are retiring in Northern Vermont. :)