Leading up to a Suburban Existence: Part II

The 1996 Olympic Games in Atlanta was the most right and correct reason to focus on relocating back to Atlanta. My business opportunities in Macon were drying up, and the Olympics promised so much more. I was on the Internet by 1995, and through the use of search engines, I found a destination management service that I felt was worthy of my services. In my years in Macon, my career had changed to something more tourism-oriented. In Macon, I was working five days per week for the city’s Convention & Visitors Bureau, or the Macon CVB. My duties included leading tours for the Bureau’s tour service. The rest of the work involved serving as information specialist at the two welcome centers. This experience served to get my resume read and seriously considered by Atlanta Destinations, the small private company who hired me. It was all part-time work, but it became plentiful enough to begin considering leaving Macon.
My new home in Atlanta was an apartment, close to the Emory University campus, where I settled in 1997. Many years before, this area would have been considered the country; but before I moved to Georgia in 1980, it was suburban Atlanta. However, the suburbs had expanded so far out beyond Atlanta’s beltway (I-285), that my new address was considered to be “intown Atlanta”. I acquiesced, and considered myself to be an intown resident.
By 2002, I was spending a lot of time with an intense friend, whom we shall call Hal. We considered the possibility of moving in together. Neither Hal’s nor my domicile would allow a comfortable lifestyle for two people. So, we began looking at houses. And, the intown neighborhoods were full of houses for sale - - none, however, were in out price range. So, we looked eastward, in Dekalb County. We looked at several; a few beyond I-285 looked fine, and certainly were affordable. Commuting distance to work however, made us frown. We settled on a house in the area once known as Rehoboth. On the maps, Rehoboth is still denoted. Most people my age and younger have never heard of such a place. Our next-door neighbor, who had lived in this neighborhood since it was subdivided in the mid-1960’s, told us that the community was organized a long time ago, and that it was known as Pea Ridge before being renamed Rehoboth in the 1930’s.
We agreed on the house in Rehoboth, though I still miss my “intown” apartment. I am a reluctant suburbanite, for I do not feel that “intown” essence by living out here. This is definitely a suburban setting. Most of the streets do not possess sidewalks. Most of the neighbors drive to reach any destination. Public transport access nearby strikes the balance (good for me because I work downtown, a place where I do not care to drive), and the biking distance is a long haul. The neighbors across the street haven’t been downtown in 15 years. They admitted to moving here to get away from the central core of Atlanta, and they are still of a belief that this neighborhood is blessedly suburban.
This is as far out into Suburbia as I wish to move. The old saying “Never say Never” does ring quite true. I could be wrong. Perhaps my companion and I will find a house farther out from here. Perhaps a career shift would make such a move more sensible. But for now, we are both committed to staying where we are, and await “intown” to move its unofficial demarcations to our neighborhood.