Well folks, the way I see it, if the birds get to migrate, so should The Batavian. Don't get me wrong, I love our office in the Masonic Temple with its frosted glass windows and door, the antique radiator adorned in arabesque—that feel of the old shamus, Philip Marlowe, who keeps a cork-topped fifth of rye in the desk drawer and just sits and waits for the next dame to peek demurely through the crack of the door. Yeah, our office is nice.
Nevertheless, it's time for a change of scenery. Genesee County is a big beautiful place. Let's get out and see what she's got to show us. Since each town and village name speaks its own hidden secrets to me, its own individual promise of undiscovered treasure, there's only one way to do this: start at the top... of the alphabet, that is.
So on this, our first day of migration, I shall travel to Alabama. Don't know what I'll find there. Don't know what to expect. All I need is a place to sit, a place to eat and some folks to talk to about life and about whatever else folks talk about in Alabama.
Do you have any ideas where I should go? What are the must see sites of Alabama? Who's got the best BLT in town? Well... that's enough talk. Time to hit the road. Alabama, here I come.
