ANTlanta

Rather than spending Labor Day weekend couped up in smalltown America, I decided to visit my sister, brother-in-law and niece in Charlotte, North Carolina.

After work on Friday, I pointed my car towards Atlanta where I would spend the night.

On the way, I stopped at Andersonville, GA, home of the notorious Andersonville Prison where thousands of Union Soldiers were imprisoned during the Civil War.

Andersonville possesses that duality that almost always exists in historic places. It is at-once breathtaking and burdensome, leaning on the knowledge of all the horrors the ground I was standing on once upheld.

After spending the better part of an hour circling the prison yard and adjacent cemetary, I hopped back on state road 49 en route to Interstate 75.

I arrived to my hotel on the southside of Atlanta (Jonesboro area, another notable Civil War era town(, dropped off my luggage and got something to eat just down the road at Sonny's.

After a good night's sleep, I checked out of my room at around nine and when I got out to my car I didn't know whether to flip or fall in it.

Ants.

There were ants all over the INSIDE of my car.

All over the console, the seats, the floor mats, the door panels...everywhere.

I immediately looked around to find some port of entry for these ants and, finding none, I started to search for some earthly reason why they would have any interest in my car. (Although, I have been told that only the lowest form of life would ever get into a Chrysler...)

And then I saw the open package of Sour Patch Kids in my seat.

I had found the culprit.

And so, I did my best to swallow my disgust for these nasty little creatures and proceeded out of the parking lot and across 75 to a gas station. I spent the next 30 minutes with a vacuum, an air hose and a can of bug spray. (Not raid, mind you, but the kind you apply to your skin.)

I got the majority of the ants out of the car, but I still had to battle the most ambitious arthopods all the way to Charlotte. I would say that it simply helped to pass the time, but I would be lying.

It was disgusting.

Once in Charlotte, I spent most of my time hanging out with my 4-month-old niece. I also mixed in a little shopping at Concord Mills. I'm not much of a shopper, but I needed a new pair of shoes.

My niece, Jaedyn, is a lot more active than she was the last time I saw her--only three weeks ago! She speaks a lot more gibberish and has already begun to dwarf other babies her age.

On Sunday night, I went to the Nascar Speedpark in Concord with my sister, her husband, and their neighbors, Jessica and Jonathan. After ravaging two of the park's go-cart tracks, we all played 18 holes of putt-putt--Jeff won.

I left early Monday morning to go back to south Georgia on a different route than the won that took me there. (Within reason, this is my longstanding policy for traveling by car.)

Instead of traveling through Atlanta, Greenville and Spartangburg, I drove through Columbia, Augusta and nearly 100 miles of the Georgian wildwood.

In total, it took me about six hours not including my hour-long jaunt around Augusta just to get a peek at Magnolia Drive.

I made it back in time to watch Phil Mickelson beat Tiger Woods in the Deutsche Bank Championship in Boston.

All-in-all, not a bad way to spend a Labor Day weekend.