“Where else can you walk by a biker store, pass a too-chic salon, stop at the hybrid Chinese burger joint with a barrel on top, all before making your way to an off-the-beaten path coffee shop to sit in the corner and read a book? And then spend an hour in traffic on your way home, satisfied with your day?”
Because when we walk down the street with our African American-Filipino-Hispanic-Kenyan-Anglo children in tow, nobody bats an eye. But walk into a Cracker Barrel in Georgia and all hell breaks loose.
“It has a sense of humor. Look around: we have everything from The Palms to James Coney Island and the Breakfast Klub, the Beer Can House, the Orange Show, museums – free and otherwise – the Tunnel, the Art Car Parade, the beach, ‘slime in the ice machine,’ Mattress Mac and Mattress Mac wannabes, Star Pizza, the Rodeo, MetroRail’s apparently invisible NO LEFT TURN signs....”