Are The Peaches Really Better in Georgia?

I'm going to Atlanta next week for work.  Instead of blogging, I should be documenting the genius insights I will be imparting unto the gathered masses, but that would be no fun.  Instead, I'm going to share my thoughts on this upcoming excursion.

• BH is going to be on his own with our three terrors from Monday through Thursday night.  This means he is going to be stressed out about having to leave work more than an hour early every day so that he can get home with enough time to pick everyone up from after-school care.  Nothing takes the shine off a vacation, er business trip, more than knowing that my better half is going to be glaring at me when I return.
• The thought of walking through metal detectors in my bare (or socked) feet makes me queasy.  I wouldn't normally consider myself a germaphobe, but I can't help but wonder just how nasty that portion of the ground is. There has to be some research findings published on it somewhere.  If not, someone needs to find themselves a grant and get moving.  I suspect that, next to airport bathrooms, the dirtiest place in the world might just be the ground surrounding the metal detectors at LAX.  Honestly, I obsess over that path.  I'm considering taking a throwaway pair of socks.  Or two.  You know, for the return trip.
• My flight is at 6am, which  means the shuttle will insist they must pick me up at 3am.  That's gonna be rough.
• I'm traveling alone, which is good.  I prefer to travel alone.
• My coworkers and I are taking a tour of CNN when we get in.  I was inordinately excited about this excursion, mostly because BH is a CNN junkie.  When I got home to rub it in, his response wasn't exactly what I was hoping for:  

BH:  "I don't care about Altanta.  I want to go to CNN New York."

Me:  "There's no CNN New York, it's in Atlanta."

BH:  "Anderson Cooper is in New York.  That would be the good one to go to."

Me:  "What?!?  You're right.  You know you could've just let me have my moment."

BH:  "Hey, you were trying to rub it in, that's what you get."

Me:  "If you really loved me, you would've let me make you feel bad."

• Richard Blais from Top Chef has a burger place in Atlanta.  I'm doing everything I can to get the group to take me there.  The nutella and burnt marshmallow shake sounds like something I need to try before I die.

• I've saved the best for last.  Guess what river made world famous by a certain Alan Jackson runs through Georgia?  That's right, the CHATTAHOOCHEE!!!  Or "the hooch," as the locals call it.  I really don't know anymore about the Chattahoochee than what I've learned from listening to Mr. Jackson sing about it, but it's enough to have me weak in the knees at the thought of catching a glimpse of it.  Rumor has it, I may be disappointed, but how bad can it be with lyrics like this?

Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee

It gets hotter than a hoochie coochie

We layed rubber on the Georgia asphalt

We got a little crazy, but we never got caught

Pure poetry.

Pictures will be taken.  And maybe shared.