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In Atlanta, Evolation yoga studio offers a special course for those with traumatic brain injuries, developed by nonprofit Love Your Brain. It teaches modified poses in a calm, open environment and encourages participants to talk about what they are going through—something I greatly appreciated when I took the course to see if it would help me with the TBI I sustained five years ago.
Atlanta really, really, wants to be the site of Amazon’s HQ2, but we've got some problems that could halt that. How do we fix our issues before the Amazon delegation arrives to inspect our city? Like a steel plate over a pothole, let's cover 'em up.
As an Iranian-American, the travel ban hits close to home. My husband, Maysam, came to this country from Iran in 2000 through a student visa to get his PhD in electrical engineering. Today he is a professor at Georgia Tech, where his research focuses on helping people with disabilities lead independent lives.
Tom Petty's final concert was my 88th show. He ended the encore with “American Girl.” The band took a bow, and exited stage left. Then, uncharacteristically, Petty looped back around, solo, and waved to fans once again. Did some part of him know?
Don’t get me wrong, filmed-in-ATL Baby Driver deserves its glowing reviews and big box office. But why didn't Edgar Wright pay just a little more attention to the details about Atlanta?
From New York to San Francisco to Hong Kong, I’ve seen entire wine lists built on the names Le Caveau owner Eric Brown fought so hard to sell here in Georgia. Over the past seven years, he helped cull that same devotion among his customers.
Our crew of friends that had known him for so long couldn’t get over this was all for him. People were hitting the stage, talking about how much they believed in our serious but goofy friend. It was surreal. I kept saying I felt like I was in an episode of The West Wing, but my friend accurately corrected me—this was a special election episode of Parks and Recreation.
I could easily say that, with sports, my parents’ model of loving detachment was good enough for me, so it’s good enough for my kid. But I can’t deny there’s a system in place that measures a parent’s love for her child by how often that parent shows up. The kids didn’t create this system. We did.
When I was first asked to join the Atlanta Comfort Women Memorial Task Force by Helen Kim Ho, the special advisor to the organization, I was certainly sympathetic to the issue of Comfort Women. I was aware of how little most Americans knew about one of the most widespread practices of human trafficking and sexual slavery in the 20th century.
When Pastor Troy’s “No Mo Play in GA” started playing inside Dugans, everyone chanted along with the chorus: “We ready, we ready.” An elderly man who had, up until that moment, been calmly enjoying his cigar, leapt to his feet and swayed, punctuating his moves with flicks of his wrists.
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