Saturday, May 5, 2018

ITP | OTP | ATL

When I was eight years old, I moved from coastal Georgia to the suburbs of Atlanta. My parents divorced and I divided my living between Fulton and Gwinnett counties. I finished college at the University of Georgia, where I unwittingly remained in exile for nineteen years until returning to the Greater Atlanta area in the summer of 2013 at the age of forty-one.

For my first year, it was Dunwoody. And I had the distinguished privilege of saying I lived in the monied city of Dunwoody, as opposed to the bus-lined thoroughfare of Sandy Springs. But apparently not good enough, according to some who clued me in to being at a disadvantage, living 'OTP'. Right on the cusp, a great location, but still, OTP. Outside the Perimeter, meaning I-285, the magic circle that has apparently come to signify the inner sanctum of Atlanta.

A year later, I moved to Buckhead, specifically, Lenox area - literally on the Brookhaven/Buckhead borderline. Ten minutes from mid-town, and yes, ITP. I moved to be closer to my new job, which spared me the forty-five-minute afternoon commute back to Sandy Springs. I mean, Dunwoody.

I'll admit, living in Buckhead affords the convenience of easily reaching any destination in or outside the city, and proximity to city life. Although there are distinctions and various tiers, criteria, and echelons within the Perimeter, I am now an 'ITP' denizen.

Having grown up in the suburbs and then living over an hour away for nineteen years in a small college town, I was struck by the snobbery, the elitism - that grown adults would so project their status, and socially exclude - based on relative polarity to the magic circle.

I recall a conversation with my hipster sister's neighbors - two sibling in their eighties who had lived in Decatur most of their lives. Decatur is the core of Atlanta, and the brother recalled a time when men and women would dress in their best attire to go downtown. He described the neighborhood's history of socioeconomic waxing and waning in concentric cycles of time - 'there goes the neighborhood'. My sister and her husband had moved in at low tide somewhere around 2000, when Oakhurst was scattered with (more) crackheads and unsavory characters, who eventually washed back out to sea as gentrification slowly drove up property tax. Within a few years, their value doubled and they upgraded to a much larger home a block up the street. Only an occasional break-in, though the crime map still lights up with sex offenders.

Another friend planted his flag just walking distance to Little Five Points, an industrious bachelor who didn't mind contending with the regular pop of gunshots, he eventually found himself married and surrounded by craftsman-style homes of other young couples. Not sure about any deviation on the frequency of gunshots.

As a DINK (Dude with Income, No Kids) living in an apartment in Buckhead across the street from my would-be office that I rarely set foot inside, I'm watching and waiting for real estate inventory to replenish, both inside and outside the Perimeter. Seeking out the right amount of space, quality materials, and a price that leaves a ceiling for savings, along with reasonable commute to work, some consideration for proximity to the city and higher regard for where I ride my bike.

I continue encountering those proud ITP'ers, but finally I overheard a transplant from the midwest raving about living ITP, characterizing their location as 'between Sandy Springs and Brookhaven' (I don't think they knew to say 'Dunwoody'), and I immediately recognized 'Ah, they're talking about Chamblee'. Rather than just saying 'I live in Chamblee', they led by extoling 'ITP' followed by complete socioeconomic camouflage.

Chamblee is a good location, near downtown, and a more affordable alternative to neighboring Brookhaven (ITP), and next door to the more established Dunwoody/Sandy Springs (OTP). A swath of reluctant gentrification, previously gang-ridden, still heavily occupied by poor multinationals, Buford Highway lined with Latin and Asian merchants and food, while Peachtree Industrial is recently crowned by the jewel of Whole Foods, surrounded by new lofts and old strip malls. Chamblee promises future development, happening in slow progression. Its lovely neighbor, Doraville, is home of the Oasis Gentleman's club, just minutes from any ITPer's untouchable, the dreaded lepper colony of Gwinnett county.

So, for those like myself, who are in the market for a place near town but not necessarily in town, it might not be too late, the climate too sketchy, nor the price too great, to stake your claim in that fuzzy strip that lies between the glorious, expanding and contracting sphincter of downtown (or maybe it's a pillar), and its demarkation at the perimeter that hugs against the cheeks (or is it the sack) of the suburbs. Just look for the sign, "Welcome to Chamblee: The Taint of Atlanta".