In favor of going east

Ever since I was a little gi—ever since I was 26 and learned how Appalachians pronounce Appalachia (app-uh-latch-uh), I’ve wanted to make my way up to that city sittin’ pretty on the Tennessee River. Chattanooga. No, I have not been to Nashville, nor Memphis. Yes, I still have to check that I’m spelling Tennessee correctly. I’m just a girl!!!

How did it all begin, you may very well be wondering. Nay, on the edge of your seat to discover. While doing some work for an agency, I came upon their account with the Chattanooga Tourist Co. and lord almighty, have you seen a more thoughtful city tourism website? https://www.visitchattanooga.com/ Every section feels like you’re visiting your grandma, and her neighbor has just stopped by to return a borrowed item, and they find out you’re from out of town and they start recommending you things to do in the least annoying way imaginable. You’re ending that conversation thinking why can’t young people have elderly friends?

I opened Airbnb, created a wishlist, and just started eviscerating future me’s budget with multi-week stays at downtown lofts and A-Line wilderness retreats. I was ogling places in Southside and dreaming of coffee on the North Shore. It was a fun rabbit hole. As the mania subsided, I got “serious” and said, ok. What is there actually to do, though? SO glad you asked. I’ll leave this: https://choosechatt.com here for you. Ya, that’s right, I’ve linked you to another city website called “Choose Chatt” filled with reasons to move to, retire in, and visit Chattanooga. They are dead set on convincing you of themselves it almost makes you think twice…? But when I stumbled upon the “For the Love of Books” blog I was sold. You mean to tell me there are at least six (thoughtful) book stores that aren’t Barnes & Noble or Half Price, and one of them doubles as a coworking/cafe space? For a city of less than 200,000, six (cute!) bookstores is Eden. I can’t even find that many within a day’s drive in Los Angeles. 

I started mapping it out, seeing if it was feasible with work to drive half of the way in the morning before I had to be online. For those curious, I’d probably wake up early on a Friday and make my way to Shreveport, Louisiana, find a Starbucks, and hammer it out. Then I’d drive to Jackson, Mississippi for the evening and stay the night. Come daybreak I’m skipping the continental breakfast and booking it for the Chatt. Accounting for a few stops, I’ll be there by lunchtime. Depending on the time of year, that’s at least four good hours of light to explore. Maybe I could peek at a mural or two, or sip at a local brewery before anyone notices I’m not a local. They’ll probably notice very quickly, who am I kidding. Am I getting ahead of myself?

Something you should know about me: If culture is a house, I’m stubbornly sneaking in through a laundry-room window. Serial killer style. I’m serially looking for that unsuspecting angle, picking up the little pieces of something until I’ve assembled the likeness for myself. Instead of approaching authors, musicians, directors and states through their best hits, I prefer to investigate what it is about the lesser recommended titles, tracks, and pit stops that aren’t always making the top of the list. Chattanooga I hope you take no offense.

Believe you me, this isn’t borne out of some pick-me fantasy. Truth be told I’m actually quite tired of saying “no, I haven’t seen The Summer I Turned Pretty” and, if I’m being honest, my quirky ways have not served me in the slightest except for landing me a good man, but this whole thing is probably something I’ll adjust about my personality if Chattanooga lets me down (it’s up to you, Chatt). You can’t actually relate or talk to anyone, about anything, when you’ve gone about it all wrong. And 50% of culture consumption for me is to stay in some kind of loop, if loosely. Sure, we both like Gore Vidal. But you’ve read Myra Breckenridge and Burr, whereas I’m a fiend for Palimpsest. Memphis and Nashville are spoken for. We get it. The Times They Are A Changin’ is a classic, but how about “Up to Me”? See you soon, Chattanooga. Hope you’re ready.