1. My cab driver on the way to the airport was the most talkative person ever. In the span of about twenty minutes, I found out (without asking a single question) about his divorce, his courtship of his second wife (who used to live in Columbia), his ten-year coke habit in the '80s, his kids, the house fire that hit them last year, his parents, and how well cabbies are doing in this economy as opposed to fifteen years ago.

2. It takes longer to go through the Delta "baggage drop-off" line than it does to go through most airline full-service lines. In other words, Delta hasn't changed. But since the only choices I had were Delta or Airtran, I decided that that airline that simply doesn't give a damn was a better choice than the airline that's actively malicious towards its passengers.

3. If you tell the TSA folks at terminal A that you don't want to go through the CancerBot 3000, they make you wait completely out of sight of the computer and other stuff you put through the conveyer belt for ten minutes while they ignore you, then they give you a patdown. I was assured that there were cameras and a place to file a report if anything was taken. Makes me feel so good.

4. The turbulence on the final twenty minutes of my flight was literally the worst turbulence I've ever experienced. And that includes the Gabrielle Anwar movie.

5. The cabbie from the airport to the hotel decided to take 20 to Moreland to Briarcliff instead of going on 85 straight to North Druid Hills. Yeah, he thought I was a tourist. That and the undocumented-anywhere credit card surcharge affected his tip. That said, driving through L5P and seeing that Criminal Records had moved was a little surreal.

6. Had a lovely dinner with my old boss and his wife (my meal: cornmeal-fried calamari with wasabi crème fraiche, pan-seared skate wing with lemon brown butter over grits and roasted asparagus, and parts of three shared mini-desserts, including a fudge tart w/ Mexican chocolate ice cream and a lemon whoopie pie with a blueberry sauce) and then we spent some time driving around the Emory/Decatur/VA Highlands to see what's changed in six years (answer: a lot, but not everything; was especially depressing to hear about Dusty's).

Oh, for those who haven't figured it out: I'm in Atlanta, and actually at Emory. Haven't really made any social plans, because I'm here for a work institute, and evenings are a part of the schedule. In many ways, other than last night, I could be anywhere. But it's still nice to get that burst of nostalgia.