You Can’t Get There

Funny thing about growing up: your parents teach you a lot of things. Some are very useful when you get older and for the rest of your life – like tying your shoes. And some things you’ll probably never use again – like figuring the radius of a circle.

But this past weekend, I used something I learned from my parents that they didn’t even know they were teaching me – and I didn’t even know I was learning.

Confused?

Don’t worry, Dear Reader. Just keep reading, and you’ll eventually arrive at your destination – the end of this story.

But first, here’s the beginning.

Somebody thought it would be a good idea to shut down Interstate 285, the highway that goes around Atlanta, in both directions from 7 o’clock Friday night until 5 o’clock Monday morning over last weekend.

I thought it was some leftover April Fool’s joke. But no. This traffic nightmare was going to happen, and the news coverage (and viewers’ outrage) was on every channel. I wondered whose brilliant idea it was to shut down the major highway that bypasses downtown Atlanta. And what idiot thought it was a good idea to build two major highways through the middle of Atlanta in the first place? And finally, who in their right mind would do the shut down thing on Mother’s Day weekend? 

Then it dawned on me. I knew immediately who it was. But, right now, let’s go on a road trip. A road trip that started about sixty years ago on that old familiar street not so far away called Flamingo.

Traversing from the south side of Atlanta to the north side is almost impossible unless you know the surface streets both inside and outside the perimeter. That knowledge, and the importance of staying current with Atlanta’s ever-changing roads, were skills taught to me by my dad without him even realizing it.

From about the age of five to eighteen, every Saturday morning my dad would ask who wanted to go with him on his route. At the time, Dad was a door-to-door salesman, and whenever he asked, for a rider my hand always shot up. Now, to be honest, this wasn’t because I cared all that much about his business, which at six years old I didn’t understand anyway. Nope, it was something more important.

It was because of the sausage biscuit.

About ten o’clock every Saturday morning, we’d stop at this tiny little hole-in-the-wall biscuit place. It looked like a strong wind could blow it over at any moment, but it had the most wonderful smells coming out of it and the most wonderful food going into my belly. A sausage biscuit with yellow mustard on it was more than enough motivation to get me out of bed before daylight on a Saturday morning.

(Yellow mustard on a sausage biscuit is something my dad taught me without ever trying to teach me anything. And sixty years later, I still eat them that way.)

During all those rides, I learned the surface streets, though not necessarily their names. Dad also taught me something else: street names may change, but the roads themselves mostly stay the same. Because of that, I can still get around just about any traffic backup or highway closure in Atlanta with relative ease. This knowledge proved invaluable this past weekend, and judging by the current state of Atlanta traffic, it’ll probably stay useful for years to come.

Now, let’s get back to whose bright idea it was to shut down I-285 on Mother’s Day weekend. Like I said, I know exactly who it was.

This person’s mother must live far away – far enough away not to be affected by the Atlanta traffic nightmare her son just created. My guess is California. Or maybe he still lives with his mom and only has to walk across the house to see her instead of getting stuck on the interstate like the rest of us.

He also clearly has no kids or grandkids. Because if he did, he’d know all the soccer tournaments happen on the north side of Atlanta on weekends. And with I-285 shut down and the extra traffic spilling over to the surface streets, you simply can’t get there from here.

Trust me. I know.

That morning, I punched the tournament address into my cars’ GPS, and I’m pretty sure it flashed a warning that said TURN AROUND AND GO BACK HOME.

Then I tried the GPS on my phone. It gave me directions back to my house and showed a picture of my recliner. 

After a two-hour drive one back roads, we finally made it to the soccer tournament only to discover half the teams couldn’t find a way to get there by game time. There was lots of construction on the north side of town also. (No doubt, the same guy made that decision also.) It makes for an easy tournament to win when the other teams don’t show up.

Still, it was a wonderful day spent with Sweet Caroline and a reminder of all those Saturday’s riding around with my dad.

Story Update: It seems that the I-285 closure last weekend was cancelled! The notice said the cancellation was due to the weather, but I know better. I bet it was all those moms calling in saying how dumb it was to close a major highway in both directions on Mother’s Day weekend. 

Thanks to all you moms out there for calling in. Sweet Caroline and I drove the “not closed” I-285 back from the tournament, and it only took an hour. Even had time to stop by and get a sausage biscuit with yellow mustard.