Moving back to the US after living abroad
I can understand bringing a picnic; maybe a bottle of wine. But why a firearm? If you had a gun with you, for some reason — maybe you forgot to take it out of your holster after your weekly target practice — why would you need to shoot at your fellow film watchers?
If we attend the next screening, I will have to make sure to dress the kids in bullet proof vests.
What a difference a week can make. Over the weekend, we took the kids to Piedmont Park, where throngs of others were walking dogs, running, and enjoying the 60 degree plus (!) temperatures.
Just a week before, in the same spot, we watched people ski (yes, ski!), sled, and freeze in the snow.
This sunshine, warmth, and good cheer of all the Piedmont Parkers this weekend more than made up for the relentless cold I’ve complained about this past winter. In fact, I don’t even mind that it’s bleak and rainy this morning (it is, after all, a Monday).
I haven’t lived in many places where I have gone coatless in late February.
I don’t think I have ever seen so many dogs in one city as I have here in Atlanta. Every morning, there is a parade of people with their pets: from the tall, curly haired woman with the massive wolf dog to the mild-mannered man with two tiny dachshunds.
And we see them wherever we go. When we bought our Christmas tree, this friendly yellow labrador greeted us.
In London, dogs would appear en masse in parks on warm, rainless days, which were few and far between. Occasionally, you would come across them in pubs.
One of the charming aspects of British pubs was that many allowed owners to bring their dogs. There would be a bowl of water on the floor for the four-legged patrons.
Here, I have yet to see a dog in any drinking or dining establishment. But they seem to be everywhere else: on Christmas hayrides, school runs, Halloween trick or treating expeditions, and jogs in Piedmont Park.
I have never owned a dog, which some of my neighbors are seeking to rectify. One sends me pictures of orphaned and abused dogs who are looking for homes.
They are adorable, but I worry about my kids: my daughter screams and cries whenever she sees one (I am therefore keenly aware of dogs’ omnipresence in this town); and I wonder how the dog would amuse his or herself while we’re all at work/preschool.
One friend sends her two rescue dogs to doggie daycare while she’s at work during the week. I’m glad to know that such a service exists, but feel that we already spend a lot of money on human daycare.
Maybe when the kids are a bit older, we’ll join the masses of Atlantans with dogs.
Reverse Culture Shock 