6 MAY 05: THE WALKIN' MAN
My friend Lisa Napoli has an "experiment in blog" she calls "The Walk" - detailing her interesting walks from coast to coast. Today I follow her inspiration, reporting on several places I visited Thursday simply by walking from my home. With gas above two dollars a gallon, this might even work for you....
11:30 a.m.: I leave the complex for my first event, and hear a man call my name on First Avenue. It's the plumber, who made a return visit to my apartment Monday afternoon while I was away. A moved kitchen trash can with a cardboard box inside was a clue - and thankfully, it still has not exploded.
Even though the plumber successfully fixed the leaky bathtub faucet on his last visit [26 Apr], he came back to install a completely new one. He left a nice stack of tiles on my bathroom stool, and a couple of very wet rugs on the floor. I guess that means the new faucet works -- or did a struggle ensue?!
"I still have to come back and put in new tiles," the plumber reminds me. Indeed, the faucet end of the bathtub is covered with a duct-taped white tarp of some sort for the moment -- almost as if Christo started one of his artistic wrapping projects.
(But at least the faucet leak has stopped -- and I tell the plumber as I walk on: "My checking account thanks you." I doubt Atmos Energy and Columbus Water Works will, but I will.)
The day's first walk is heading for the Phenix City Amphitheater, and the National Day of Prayer event. The trip up Broadway is sunny and quiet - with the only adventure being how I'll keep space with a woman ahead of me, whose dog wants to (ahem) leave its mark in several yards.
11:50 a.m.: I arrive at the amphitheater, and a man puts an "I prayed" sticker on my shirt. Talk about faith - what if I hadn't done it before showing up?
As I wait for the praying to begin, I overhear someone talk about a "shootout." Only later do I realize he apparently was talking about the capture and killing of those two suspects from the Peachtree Mall shooting. Should I assume Conyers, Georgia now has joined the City Hall critics' definition of the "wild west?"
12:00 noon: The National Day of Prayer event begins - and as usual, I'm the only person from the congregation I attend to show up. The rest tend to take seriously the Bible verses about "prayer closets." My problem is that my closets are too filled with clothing....
People from a variety of denominations offer prayers in all sorts of areas. The first one is a "prayer for our nation," with a man who's clearly against abortion. But don't worry if you work at a woman's clinic -- because later there's a "prayer for our enemies."
As a woman from Smiths Station sings part of "America the Beautiful" toward the close of the event, I look around at the crowd - and no more than 100 people are in the amphitheater. This is supposed to be a "Bible belt" area, yet even Columbus Riverdragons games had bigger crowds than this.
For all the publicity the National Day of Prayer gets from "Focus on the Family" and "The 700 Club," not that many people attend the annual event here. Perhaps too many people are working at 12:00 noon, and can't attend. Or perhaps many Columbus believers still think Phenix City hasn't cleaned up those sins from the 1950's.
The "hour of prayer" is supposed to end with the launch of dozens of balloons - yet despite a strong wind, not that many balloons fly off into the distance. But I choose to look on the bright side. Maybe it means these preachers aren't as full of hot air as we thought.
12:40 p.m.: The prayer event ends, and I walk back across the Dillingham Street Bridge. I look down to find a man walking almost in the middle of the Chattahoochee River. Perhaps he was so fired up from the service that he decided to try walking on water.
I'm a bit hungry as I set foot back in Columbus - and the perfect place for me is just up the hill on Dillingham Street. I head for Quizno's Subs, in the basement of a building at 9th and Front Avenue. You walk down stairs from street level to go in, yet so far no entrepreneur has thought to call it "Underground Columbus."
The special which appeals to me at Quizno's is a Philly sandwich for $2.99. But I have to stop the woman behind the counter, when I realize she never asked what sort of bread I wanted. Subway asks the "white or wheat" question - Quizno's simply browns everything in an oven.
The Philly cheese steak sandwich gets the "Quizno's toasted" treatment, passing slowly down a conveyor belt toaster. This might fascinate children -- but I've now seen enough popcorn bags pop in a microwave oven to be unimpressed by this.
I walk my Philly back to the barn (sorry, no Kentucky Derby predictions) -- and after about six blocks, the sandwich still is quite warm at the kitchen table. What makes this more amazing is that it's a bit windy, and I walked under several shady trees on Broadway.
2:30 p.m.: OK, I cheated. I run several errands in my car. But at least I walked up the big hill at Chattahoochee Valley Community College - which for out-of-shape people must feel some days like climbing Mount Everest.
6:15 p.m.: The evening events begin, on the same course as the earlier walk. But as I make the right turn onto Broadway at Fifth Street, there's music in the distant air. Could it be that civil rights leaders finally organized an alternative to Riverfest?
No, this music is coming from the "Cinco de Mayo" pub crawl - and a bandstand about more than five blocks away on Broadway. When you can sing along with "Oye Como Va" from three-quarters of a mile away, you almost wish you'd brought earplugs along with you.
In only two long tunes, I've walked to Tenth and Broadway - and as the "Ped-Xing" light permits me to cross Tenth Street, an impatient driver changes lanes and moves through the intersection right in front of me. Thankfully, I'm carrying an umbrella for possible rain. I call a foul on that driver on the spot.
6:35 p.m.: Before I look around what one bar sign called "Cinco Cinco Cinco," there's another stop to make. I walk inside Judy Bugs Books, where retired TV news anchor Dick McMichael is signing copies of his new biography "The Newsman." This place used to be Toad's Books - but somehow it's moved down the food chain....
My timing of this visit is superb - because Dick McMichael is chatting with Jim Houston of the Ledger-Enquirer, Al Fleming of NBC-38 and former TV personality Don Nahley. There are so many stories of old-time Columbus in this store that the Museum should have "judy-bugged" the room with microphones.
Jim Houston has to leave, so the three veteran broadcasters are left to talk about all sorts of past and present things. I take a seat and quietly absorb it all -- since I'm the only person there for about 40 minutes who wants to buy Dick McMichael's book, autographed or not.
(I should explain here that I worked with Dick McMichael during his final years of full-time news anchoring. And I was the producer on that fateful night at 6:00 p.m. when he anchored the news by himself and actually said: "Good evening, I'm Dee Armstrong....")
These three ex-newscasters apparently hadn't watched the evening reports - so I break the news to them of the biggest drug bust in Columbus history. Sheriff Ralph Johnson says more than $38 million in cash, cocaine and marijuana were seized in an 18-month operation. So that grand jury report about a "reactive" police force was a great cover job.
(About $600,000 in cash was seized in the drug bust. NOW can Mayor Bob Poydasheff restore those 16 public safety positions? We may have found the money for them....)
The three TV veterans apparently have no idea I'm a blogger, as they openly discuss all sorts of things:
+ Don Nahley succeeded Dick McMichael as WRBL booth announcer, when McMichael took a job in Atlanta. You almost wonder why WLTZ didn't try replacing Don Nahley with Al Fleming a couple of years ago, to save "Coffee Break."
+ "Scruffy Murphy's up for sale. They want $400,000!" If this deal goes through, the current owner of this Broadway bar should be much less scruffy.
+ "The Augusta newspaper's writing about US.... trying to learn how to revitalize their downtown." In return, maybe we should go to Augusta and learn how to keep professional golf tournaments.
+ No one's lived in the house atop the AFLAC parking garage since Elena Amos died several years ago. This should stop the rumors about a duck with a penthouse suite....
+ Whitewater rafting on the Chattahoochee River? "That's gonna happen, because Bill Turner's behind it." When big money flows, all sorts of other things can as well.
The conversation is fascinating, but I must walk on - and as Dick McMichael signs a copy of "The Newsman" for me, he reveals he's published the book himself. He bought dozens of copies through a company in Philadelphia to do it. Why does Jerry Laquire's publishing company hold a grudge, after all these years?
Dick McMichael had to buy several boxes of his own book to keep the price down - but even then, a paperback copy costs $19.95. Yet I'm willing to do my part, to pay for this local legend's retirement....
"He's reserved nine more ISBN numbers," the attendant at Judy Bugs Books tells me as I pay for "The Newsman." Wow - NINE more books from 74-year-old Dick McMichael? I recalled one TV interview this week, where he said he's written an unpublished novel. There could be a whole series, where a journalist outsmarts police to crack crimes.
7:15 p.m.: I take my autographed book out onto Broadway, where the Cinco de Mayo band is beginning a new set of music. It looks like more than 150 people have shown up so far for the party - so compared with the prayer service, Columbus may be more secular humanist than we thought.
(The Columbus Catfish decided not to compete with this bash, so the team is having a "Seis de Mayo" event at Golden Park tonight. People who had too much to drink Thursday night might opt instead for a "Seis-ta.")
The band starts a salsafied version of a Duke Ellington jazz standard, as I check a few businesses in the 1000 block of Broadway. But sadly, only one sidewalk table seems to have tortilla chips and salsa on it for free nibbling -- and it's occupied.
A woman is doing a solo dance to the salsa beat, as she mixes drinks outside Picasso's Pizza. "I can break it down for you, baby!" she tells me. On Victory Drive, those words could get some businesses on Fort Benning's off-limits list....
Even though I'm walking and not driving, I decide not to buy a "pub crawl" pass and turn toward home. As I cross Tenth Street, a thud can be heard from the lawn just north of the RiverCenter. It's a young man kicking a soccer ball -- and that makes more sense for marking Mexico on Cinco de Mayo than drinking Budweiser's "American beer."
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