Today I’m pleased to report that some of that statement is now true — I’m leaving the staff of the Wren’s Nest in September 2011. (No, I don’t have a sweet job lined up. No, I haven’t been asked to leave.) You might have already read the notice in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

When I arrived here in 2006, my job was pretty clear — see if you can’t revitalize this all but shuttered Atlanta institution.

Five years later, with the help of an invigorated board, dedicated donors, fantastic volunteers, key partnerships (like our latest collaboration with the Atlanta Opera) and an indispensable staff, we’ve done just that. The museum looks spectacular, and our programming is dynamic, engaging, and growing.

The executive director position at the Wren’s Nest is entirely different than it was in 2006. Our organization is infinitely more viable. We no longer need groundbreaking ideas like, “Let’s get an email address!” or “Let’s consider paying the light bill!”

What the Wren’s Nest needs now is to move from viable to robust.

Starting in September the plan is that I’ll serve as chair of our board of directors. There’s a real opportunity to shake things up there in a way that I can’t do as a staff member. That means we also have the opportunity to hire someone for my position who actually knows what they’re doing. Plus, they’ll have a passionate, knowledgeable advocate for a board chair who’s been through delicate transitions like this before.

Do you want my job? Read up on how to apply.

If you’ve got questions, comments, concerns, or bundles of money you’d like to hand over, please shoot me an email (lain@wrensnestonline.com) or give me a call (404-753-7735), or leave a comment below.

Yesterday the AJC reported that MARTA is in some hot water with the Center for Pan Asian Community Services regarding its (relatively) new “yellow” line that terminates in Doraville. Since part of the yellow line runs through an area with a sizable Asian population, some have taken offense.  Here’s MARTA’s rail map, for reference.

Creative Loafing contributor Andisheh Nouraee has taken the opportunity to tweet about the controversy (1, 2, 3):

This reminds me of two things –

1. The time my friend criticized this blog for use of the phrase “calling a spade a spade.”
2. The time that “tar baby” has been appropriated as a racial slur.

Did you know that “spade” is derogatory in some circumstances?  I didn’t.  Did you know that “tar baby” is derogatory in some circumstances?   Probably so.   Does that mean I’m insensitive for calling “a spade a spade” or retelling the most famous African-American folk tale or riding the yellow line to Doraville?

Unless my token asian friends tell me differently, I’m just going to assume this is being blown way out of proportion.  As the article points out, MARTA isn’t exactly blameless here and had some warning about potential unease, but let’s be reasonable: does this mean the stop lights along that same corridor are red, racist, and green?

What about when we tell “The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story” in our (predominately African-American) neighborhood — is it more racist here than if we told it in (mostly white) Avondale?  No — that’d be like saying the crackers at Kroger in Alpharetta are more racist than the crackers at Kroger on Cascade Road.

Yellow is a primary color, y’all.  It’s also a Coldplay song.  And, yes, it’s also a slur.  But just because a word is sometimes hurtful doesn’t mean we should banish it to the depths of the Disney vault, never to see the light of day again. It’s a slippery slope, folks.

Related: Tar Baby in Classic Saturday Night Live Sketch

Nannie showed us this today with the intro, “Imagine my surprise when I saw I had died!”  For the record, this made me feel really, really weird.

To the family of (not our) Nannie Thompson, please accept our condolences.

This bizarre coincidence inspired (our) Nannie Thompson to kick what was ailing her to the curb, though I think we can all agree that perhaps she should take cues from subtler sources.

Welcome back, Miss Nannie.

We were lucky enough to meet all sorts of important people.  Our tour guide was one such important person — Daily Lifestyle Reporter and all-around champion, Jamie Gumbrecht.  She’s peeking out below on the left.

While I do not have any more pictures, I can and will regale you with a few stories.  Ready?  I hope so.

Asking the Tough Questions

Jamie and the gang walked in on a meeting between Julia Wallace, Editor-in-Chief, and James Mallory, Senior Managing Editor.  Mallory introduced himself by saying (in essence), “This woman is in charge and currently stomping all over my suggestions.”

Wallace asked the gang if they had any questions.  Here’s how it went:

WREN’S NEST EDITOR: So, what do you think of the AJC redesign?

AJC EDITOR: What do you think about it?

WREN’S NEST EDITOR: It reminds me of USA Today.

AJC EDITOR: Is that a good thing?

WREN’S NEST EDITOR: (pregnant pause) No.

It’s a tad surreal to see the Editor of one of the most respected newspapers in the country defending her decisions to a high school junior.  Apparently the AJC editors should consult the Wren’s Nest Publishing Company editors before moving forward with anything else.

Auspicious Encounters

We settled in to learn all about InDesign from the lovely Melissa Angle, Senior Designer, who was nothing short of amazing.  I know this because even I could follow what she was demonstrating.  That, my friends, is saying something.  She was kind, generous (instructional packets!), funny, and patient.

On our way out we caught Pulitzer Prize winner Mike Luckovich in the midst of satirizing Jon and Kate, pen in hand and everything.  Half-finished illustrations are tops!

Here’s the finished product.

Finally, Managing Editor Bert Roughton asked the gang if they had read any good submissions yet.  One answered, “No.  The one I read was REALLY bad.”  I think he offered her a job on the spot.

Thank You

Can I just take a moment to appreciate the generosity of the (very important) folks who took time to hang out?  Good golly.  Melissa and Jamie, y’all have a box of cookies coming your way.  The rest of you can mooch off of them.

Thank you all again!

Behavior Problems

Unfortunately, our hosts at the AJC weren’t the only jaw-dropping element of our time there.

I know that my concept of manners and good social graces are different than those of a 16-year-old, and I have to judge appropriately.  On the other hand, would you walk into the AJC while eating french fries?  Would you think nothing of arriving 20 minutes late?  Of picking at your nails while the Editor-in-Chief spoke to you?  Sadly, I could go on.

I have no question that each and every one of our editors knows how to behave themselves when it’s called for.  So why didn’t they think this was one of those times?  It makes me uneasy about cashing in all of our favors for a gang that will appear not only disinterested, but ungrateful.

Sticky as Brer Rabbit Molasses, this situation.  Any advice, other than prolonged yelling and/or foot stomping?

]]> http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/wrens-nest-publishing-company-visits-the-atlanta-journal-constitution/feed/ 9 http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/poe-money-poe-problems-the-edgar-allen-poe-house-in-baltimore/ http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/poe-money-poe-problems-the-edgar-allen-poe-house-in-baltimore/#comments Sat, 22 Nov 2008 18:14:44 +0000 Amelia http://www.wrensnestonline.com/blog/poe-money-poe-problems-the-edgar-allen-poe-house-in-baltimore/ Many moons ago (mid-September to be exact), Lain and I traveled to Baltimore to be overzealous about The Wire, visit the Edgar Allen Poe House, and see friends, in that order.

Due to, ahem, technical difficulties, we didn’t have the pictures from our visit until now.

So first, let’s talk about The Wire, shall we?  Because everyone loves it, I won’t take up space here telling you that it was quite possibly the best show on television and that your career as a television viewer is incomplete without it.  That would be silly.

I will tell you this–The Wire focuses on the drug trade in Baltimore, and the set is Baltimore itself.  The projects, to be exact.

Which is exactly where the Poe House is!

This leads to the Poe House’s voicemail being both helpful and unintentionally hilarious.  Like, amazing.  Here, I’ll sum it up for you:

Do not, by absolutely any means, walk to the Poe House!  No, seriously, don’t.  We know you think you can, but you cannot.  Stop it.

It’s important to note the message is about 4 (wonderful) minutes long.

The Poe House is the very small home where Edgar Allen Poe lived the last years of his life, when he was ill, broke, and generally considered a wack-job.  Very few original artifacts remain in the home.

The Director of the Poe House has a fierce loyalty to “Eddie,” but a possibly broken spirit as a result.  The phone message isn’t the only evidence.  Here, look at the Caution sign.

We too wish we could tell some people to control their durn kids, but to print and frame it?  Incredible.

This sheet is your guide as you tour the house.  I suspect it exists because the Director would have punched the next person who asked a dumb question.

There’s plenty of evidence of how he got to be this way, conveniently put into a video montage for visitors!

I’ve truly never seen someone taunted on television so many times, over so many years.  If ever there was a good sport, it’s this Director.

This relief of Edgar Allen Poe is a good visual for the museum, I think.

Like the Wren’s Nest, the Poe House has seen good times and some really not so good times.  This bad boy was originally put outside, after a couple other reliefs were stolen.  Then it was damaged by environmental factors like acid rain.

Here are some framed copies of Gustave Doré’s famous illustrations of Poe’s The Raven.  The Wren’s Nest also has a copy, since Joel Chandler Harris himself owned the very same version!

My favorite part of the house was the stairway to the third floor.  It is so narrow, steep, and angled that it was truly difficult to turn around.

Here’s what it looks like upstairs.

Though it’s hard to tell in this picture, the ceiling is about 4 feet tall and the room is about 7 feet wide.  If I could have stooped in there for a visual, I would have, but you weren’t allowed in the room.

So!  There ends our tour of the Poe House, which was really a discussion of its war-weary Director and where The Wire was possibly filmed.  Journalism at its finest.

Next time you’re in Baltimore, visit the Poe House.  But listen to the voicemail first.  It’s worth it.

You see, someone chose US to be their nameless vision of awkwardness! Have you ever been so elated?! First, the famous awkward picture:

Next, the use of said picture ON A BLOG ABOUT HIP HOP. Go on. Check it out. The hip hop community loves us. It’s about time we gave back.

I hope you realize I am not kidding about my excitement. Seriously, I could not have asked for a better home for my image. This is rich.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to being thrilled and twirling in circles. Yippee! Famous! Kinda!

(Gallant executive director LAIN SHAKESPEARE prepares to leave the Wren’s Nest when the doorbell rings.  CRAZY WOMAN IN PINK, who had been seen mysteriously rolling a suitcase around in the back yard, appears at the door. LAIN does not know she is crazy.)

LAIN: Hi!  Are you here for a tour?

WOMAN: Yes!  May I come in?

LAIN: Actually, we closed at 2:30.  And normally I’d let you come in but I’m running late.

WOMAN: Aha!  Will you be open tomorrow?  And how much does a tour cost?

LAIN: Yes, and it’s $8 for adults.

WOMAN: Would you charge me if I said this was my house?

(LAIN cannot respond to this question and stares vacantly for nine beats.)

LAIN:  …yes, I think I would.

WOMAN:  But this is my house.  I built it.  So you’re going to charge me to see it!?!

LAIN: (voice cracking) …oh?

WOMAN: Yes, I built this house with my husband and my brother.

LAIN: (pointing to the house) Are we… talking about… the Wren’s Nest?

WOMAN: Yes!  In fact, I have things planted all around the house.

LAIN: Things?  What kind of things?

WOMAN: (ignoring this) When my husband and I divorced, we decided to keep this house as neutral ground.  So we can both come here.

(LAIN squints real hard, as if it will make this woman make sense.)

WOMAN:  At least, that’s the way it is until I can move all my stuff out.

LAIN: What kind of stuff do you have in here?

WOMAN: (smiling wide) My Ouija board.  And Jumanji.  Have you ever heard of Jumanji?  Say, is this house haunted?

LAIN: Ma’am?  I don’t think so.  Do you have somewhere you can stay?

WOMAN: This is my house.

LAIN: Yes, but I mean for toni–

WOMAN: (emphatically, but with a smile) My house.

(LAIN and WOMAN exchange awkward goodbye, ending the most confusing conversation that has occurred on the premises in recent memory.)

–
EDIT, 1:59 PM:  (Editor’s note–In my rush to get everything down on paper, I totally forgot the wackiest part!  Please forgive, and you can insert these lines anywhere above where it makes sense.)

LAIN: So, um, what’s your name?  How long have you been in the neighborhood?

WOMAN: I am the mother of time.

Folks around here are not happy.

(More pictures, along with the AJC article, here.)

You’d figure that with the city of Atlanta adding 20,000 citizens in the past year things like–oh I don’t know–fire stations would find their way in the budget.  Ours is the longest-running fire station in the city, established in 1910.  For continuity’s sake you figure they could’ve picked another station out of the hat.

#7 is easily the closest fire station to the Wren’s Nest.  They served us just last month when they provided us a truck for Wren’s Nest Fest.

I think they actually hired that kid.  Too bad he’s going to get laid off now.

There’s a protest planned for today at 11:30 am.  I’d expect television cameras and reporters there, so if you ever wanted to be on tv, now’s your chance.  You might could even help save our fire station, too.

If I’m not there it’s because I have a meeting until 12 and then another at 1.  Hopefully I’ll be able to wriggle out of ‘em.

(This is the least creepy way possible of saying we’re having a party for the anniversary of Harris’ death.)

Because this party is a Big Deal, we thought it would be best that more than 5 people attend.  So we sent out invitations.  Lots of ‘em.  The image you see above is on the front of the invitation postcard; details and space for the address are on the back.

And then we started getting them back.  Lots of ‘em.

They came back in bundles, all with the same label, telling us that no such address existed.  Thing is, the addresses were right.  We checked.  And then checked again. Even mine came back.  And you know what?  I’m proud to say that I can recognize my own address. I even have it memorized.

So today, sleuth that she is, Mama Shakes (also known as Annette, Lain’s mom) went to the post office to demand an explanation… in the most polite terms possible, I’m sure.

Turns out the culprit is the location of our return address.  On some (but not all) of the invitations, the computer read this address as the “send to” address, sending them back to us in a jumble of confusion.

So I guess the point is, haven’t received an invitation yet?  It’s in the mail.

And!  I would be remiss not to point out that anyone who considers themselves part of the Wren’s Nest “family” is invited to this event.  Regular blog readers, that means you! (Just be sure to rsvp to amelia@wrensnestonline.com!)

Welp, at press time nobody has signed up. Not a single person. That’s less than two people! Infinitely less, some might say.

The problem is, this thing starts on June 2nd.

The idea for the camp (not mine, but I certainly think it’s a good one), is that middle school age students will write, act in, and produce a play in two weeks. We’ve got three different organizations (The Wren’s Nest, Fly-By Theatre, Hammonds House) who are each providing a professional artist to teach the kids in a different field. (Confused? Click here.)

Fine, right? Fine. Maybe a little hard to explain, but fine.

With 0 kids signed up, we’re left scratching our heads, especially since Fly-By Theatre has hosted successful camps like this in the past.

Understandably, our first professional writer bailed. At the time, dedicated funding had fallen through (this has since changed), nobody had signed up, and in good conscience we simply couldn’t continue to allow him to pass up other jobs.

In a last ditch effort to get some kids for this camp, my colleagues and I have decided to, more or less, offer scholarships for worthy applicants (read: those applicants with a pulse) and offer up one last hurrah of awareness.

So, all that said, here are a few questions for you to ponder–

1. Do you know any 11 – 14 year olds with free schedules who live in Atlanta and would want to do something like this?
2. What is the fatal flaw about this idea?
3. When you have to coerce kids into attending a camp, is that (a) good parenting / camp administration; (b) the time to call it quits; or (c) an opportunity to have a “guinea pig” round to practice for next year?
4. Is it the name? It might be the name.
5. Should money be involved in this at all? If it were a competitive admission process instead, do you think we’d still have 0 kids signed up?
6. Do you think this an issue of not filling a need in the market, not reaching our target market, or our target market spending all their money on gas?

Now go, internet consultants! Do my bidding!