little five points and miss mary mac, mac, mac

   Today we set out for Little Five Points.  I was there many moons ago with one of my best friends, Christine. 

   And we were there as a smaller part of a collectively larger group, Youth With A Mission. 

   Anyway, our particular mission was to dance basically wherever we could find a level space and something with which we could play our music.  

   So, we headed out to Little Five Points, a communal hang out with local shops, artists, musicians, and yes, drum circles. There was also a small theater called 7 Stages and we, being naive and not knowing exactly how one books a gig, simply went right into the lobby, found the director, and told him that we wanted to perform on one of his 7 stages,.

  That night, if possible.

  I mean, we weren't being too crazy; it's not like we asked to perform on all 7 of his stages or anything like that. 

  

  Surprisingly enough, he auditioned us, and after watching us dance, said we were in. So we became part of a variety act and went on right after a solo modern dancer finished contracting, suspending, releasing, and rolling to nothing but the sounds of the didgeridoo.

  If you are familiar with that sound, than you can only imagine how enthusiastically we applauded once we realized we didn't have to listen to it droning on any longer.  

  Anyway, four of us decided to get on the MARTA and find our way to Little Five Points. 

  We got off at Five Points Station, knowing that it wasn't a very long walk from there to where we wanted to go.  I asked an elderly man for exact directions and he told us to either "jes go straight up yonder and turn lef' at the espressway" or if we were feeling adventurous, I guess, we could "jes foller that man through the park and make a rat at Eucleed."

  After navigating through his delightful southern accent, we made our decision. 

  

  Now we weren't altogether positive that "that man" was going to Little Five Points, but we decided we liked the idea of walking in a park more than on an expressway, so we headed off toward where "that man" had just disappeared. 

   And sure enough, we turned "rat" at Euclid and found ourselves in exactly the right spot.

  There was a good amount of graffiti on the walls, but in this place it didn't seem so intrusive; it blended in with the eclectic atmosphere. Besides, although I don't necessarily think that you can find the term sparkle motion in Webster's Dictionary, I really like the sentiment.
  I also like to support local shops, like to pick up items that you would probably not find at your nearby Gap or Macy's. So, I saw this red hat and decided I would give it a home.
   I also saw this tee and liked the message enough to want to wear it and spread the idea.
  And then we got back to downtown Atlanta and made it to the historic and mouth-wateringly tasty restaurant, Mary Mac's Tea Room. 

  A restaurant that has been around since WWII when all the menfolk were away fighting the good fight and Miss Mac decided to make some money and serve some soul food. 
  This was maybe my favorite part of the meal, I think. The waiter nonchalantly placed a bread basket smack dab in the middle of our table as if we get to eat fresh-out-of-the-oven cinnamon rolls, warm,  melt-in-your-mouth biscuits, and crumbly corn muffins every day of our lives. 

  Although thinking about it, it's probably for the best that we don't.

  We almost started singing when we saw it. But instead we started stuffing ourselves and any notion of that was quickly put to rest since our mouths were quite busy devouring these. 
   The place was really just perfect. Though, what was not perfect was having to put my leotard on shortly after for the show and feeling like one of the beluga whales we're going to see tomorrow at the aquarium ...
  Still, the baked chicken, cornbread dressing, chicken gravy, cranberry sauce, sweet potato souffle, creamed corn, and strawberry shortcake was utterly worth it.