Last summer, around this time, Puff and I spent a long weekend in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Growing up in Atlanta, Puff had visited there several times over his childhood. Meanwhile, I spent my youth pondering the necessity and meaning behind the red barn birdhouses that read "See Rock City."
In all honesty, I thought they were some kind of campy hoax, where no such place existed.
Happily, I was incorrect. Rock City is actually a hilariously fun and nostalgic tourist attraction in Chattanooga. Puff and I got up early to beat the crowd (and the heat) and had a fabulous time wandering the paths, enjoying scenic overlooks, and giggling at the black-lit gnomes.
It's amazing how a quick weekend getaway can transport you into such a foreign feeling. That fabulous feeling like you are doing something with your life. You're learning about other things and other places and other people. And you feel good about branching out and seeing the wonders of this world.
No matter how corny they are.
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