As I guide the Honda around broad curves and descend into my nieghborhood, I just can’t help feeling the love that is the ATL.

Despite the fact that spring makes me feel like a violent, silent tornado is twisting my sinuses like so many ethernet cables in a box, sliding through these streets is a pleasure. Lubricated by the thick, jasmine-scented air, my Honda shoots through these green tubes, emerging in village after village; a canopy of green covering everything.

As my friend Bob said, “Corvette summer. Corvette summer to you.”