Are Georgia laborers getting worked? Jobbed? They’re certainly not getting enough work/jobs, at least according to employment figures released last week. The Peach State ranked worst nationally in unemployment for the month of August at 8.1 percent.
If all goes well and according to plan, today my brother, brother-in-law, friend and I will be going over the Chilkoot Pass from Alaska into Canada. This will be my fourth time scaling the “Golden Stairs,” which is the most difficult part of the 33-mile Chilkoot Trail that offered quite a demanding deliverance to gold rushers of 1898 attempting to reach the Yukon Territory to stake their claims.
Just four Georgia boys enjoying the wilderness, the history, the camaraderie and a healthy resetting of the senses!
I’m the king of mistakes. Just ask my wife! [cue rimshot]
Not sure if it was a country song, a Sunday sermon or perhaps just a routine counting of my blessings, but I recently got to thinking about the missteps along life’s road and the good that can come from them — luck, character, patience, unanswered prayers, etc.
5. DOUBLE BREAKER: I was hitting my approach to the 3rd green at my father’s golf club and was quite sure I’d be trying again with a new ball as my shot was destined for the middle of the creek fronting the putting surface. Except luck, usually a stranger to my golf game, intervened. I watched in pleasant disbelief as my ball bounced off the bridge spanning the water hazard and then proceeded to carom off a pine toward the green.
4. SUMMERTIME BLUES: For the summer of ’94 all this college student wanted was to leave Georgia and Hotlanta behind for independence, adventure and a resort job out West. Instead I found myself working a poorly planned concessions stand at Tank Top Golf Club in Bremen, Ga., which was a brutal hour or so commute west of the city. I also had a hydroplaning accident and an interstate breakdown trying to get out to the job! The good man upstairs took pity and rewarded me with an Alaskan summer the next year and a Europe-Olympics-Bahamas season after that.
3. THE ROAD MORE TRAVELED: After getting my master’s degree in ’03 the last thing I wanted to do is return to Atlanta, but a job brought me back to town. And the new gig was where I met my beautiful wife.
1-2. SUGAR AND SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE: Hard to believe that for both of our beautiful babies I was rooting for a boy (Full Disclosure: the Lee name is still in doubt for the next generation). Now that I’ve learned to think pink and play princess there’s no going back!
Young and looking to start your career? Look no further than Atlanta, GA.
The Big A takes the top spot in a ranking of best U.S. cities for recent college graduates. The ranking released this week by MarketWatch.com took into account starting salary levels, rent affordability and the presence of major employers (e.g., Coke, The Home Depot and Delta).
If your entrepreneurial spirit decides to stay, it’s good to know your home has staying power.
Biz2Credit recently named Atlanta No. 8 on its list of the 25 best small business cities in America. Ranking criteria included annual revenue, credit score, age of business (in months), cash flow, debt-to-income ratio, incorporation (C-Corp or LLC versus sole proprietorship) and business owners’ personal credit scores.
Just be careful if moving up in your profession or industry requires a lot of moving around town. Atlanta ranked behind only Houston for having the least courteous drivers in the U.S.
To reduce your living space, start with a small house. Add more and more stuff, another baby and winter. Mix in a family virus every other week and stir — crazy.
Welcome to our winter. To say the walls were closing in is like saying a trash compactor is a tad stifling.
With spring has come a brighter outlook and a clearer picture of our house renovation plans, i.e., we’re close to wrapping up the architectural drawings for our home expansion and starting the bidding process.
There should be a word that combines a euphoric, hallelujah-like expectation with the pre-exhaustion of facing a mountain of a major project. I bet the Germans have one…
My mother-in-law recently wondered aloud how we have managed to cope in this jam, cram and scram existence (the latter part mostly pertains to my daily thoughts about our dog, whose 19 lbs. or so really shouldn’t take up that much space). And she grew up in a smaller house with three to four more inhabitants!
We all have heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder. What happens when you go the opposite route, when your living space is akin to a can of sardines?! Despite the cabin fever, the lines for the bathroom, near-crippling injuries from stepping on kiddy toys, the ever-present fear of a single floor creak waking up the baby, bumping into bathroom doors and ducking cabinet ones, our family has almost emerged with love intact and good spatial values.
Just ask my real estate agent Leonardo Da Vinci about the latter: “Small rooms or dwellings discipline the mind, large ones weaken it.”
I’m certainly not aiming for weakening of the mind with our house expansion, just the easing of it. Really looking forward to that… after living out of a suitcase/apartment for 4 to 6 months!
Going to the Masters is like Christmas Day with golf clubs. It’s a whole nation of inspiration plus really good, inexpensive food & beverage. It’ll make you forget your boss, your aches & pains (redundant?) and your deadlines, just don’t forget about the following details:
• Don’t go unprepared: sunscreen, a change of shoes, clothing layers, etc. I have nearly frozen on the course in the morning and followed that up with a sunburn by late afternoon. Also, don’t forget your own personal mood enhancers: sausage biscuits & James Taylor are a favorite combo of mine on the way to Augusta National Golf Club.
• Don’t visit the apparel shop until the end of the day. You don’t want to lug around merchandise the whole day and if you take those items back to the car you’re only spending more time away from the glorious golf.
• Don’t leave Masters badges within view in your car… because there’s a good chance they’ll be gone when you get back! This happened to my aunt & uncle in 1993 — bless their hearts. My brother and I drove down from college in Virginia and North Carolina, respectively, only to find out that, as a result, there’d be no Masters for us that year.
• Don’t think you can be everywhere for every good shot. Plus, part of the fun and energy is hearing those distant roars booming through the pines and checking the scoreboard a couple minutes later to see who made birdie or eagle on what hole.
• The Masters is the greatest sporting event in the world, but don’t skip out on just any obligation to attend. My brother chose the tournament over his high school baseball duties and got more than a firm benching.
• When using the cross walk to get to the other side of a fairway, don’t get distracted. Looking up at the green during a crossing, my dad nearly trucked Curtis Strange.
• Don’t root too hard for a player/fellow alum. Just because you hear the “U da man!” yell all the time on TV doesn’t mean a marshal won’t dress you down for very vocal support. Or maybe I got pulled aside along the 1st tee box one year for rooting on Lanny Wadkins because “Go Demon Deacons!” is just not as familiar as cheers for Dawgs or Tigers.
• Don’t go on Sunday (if you have a choice). The best vantage point for the all-important final round at Augusta is from your couch. Our family tradition involved going to the tournament on Friday when you could see more players (i.e., before the 36-hole cut). Plus, why not make a three-day weekend out of the Masters! (Confession: I am more than happy to go on Sunday this year, especially here in the DVR era.)
• Bringing your cellphone through the tournament gates is a no-no. Oh, and don’t bring your putter either. I actually had a high school friend back in the day ask me if fans did the latter!