Welcome to Fuckville

I live in Cabbagetown, and I really like the area. It is still a bit gritty, but not scary. There are arty types, corporate types, singles and families, young and old.

The gateway to our little slice of Atlanta is the Krog Street Tunnel, which was completed in 1912, if you are going north, and 1913, if you are going south. The Krog Street Tunnel is known as the “Graffiti Tunnel” in the local lexicon, and is a fixture in most directions (…go past the Graffiti Tunnel and turn right…).

I really like the Krog Tunnel, because I see art and political statements and concert announcements and an upwelling of urban Angst. My local friends think that it looks like a place where people would sell crack.

It is a bit creepy, as it is only a two-lane tunnel, one in each direction, with large concrete pillars in the middle of the street. The feature that has led to its graffitification is that there are raised sidewalks on either side, enabling a pedestrian to travel through the tunnel without taking their lives into their own hands (unless they are afraid of crack dealers). The tunnel is lit with those eerily chipper peachy sodium lights, but not enough to adequately light the tunnel, leading to an unfriendly air for nighttime traversing.

On the Cabbagetown side (South side) of this tunnel is a four-way stop sign. At this stop sign, some helpful individual has posted a wooden sign. This sign is made up of two parts; the top portion, painted cheerfully and colorfully, said, “Welcome to Cabbagetown”. The lower portion was painted in chalkboard paint, and people would post messages there, things like lost pets, farmers markets, garage sales. It really was quite handy.

Alas, this sign is no more. Oh, the sign is still there, but it has been modified. Someone has painted the whole thing this really tragic magenta color, and scrawled across it in dripping black paint, “Welcome to Fuckville.” See, it took me a while, but I got there eventually, dear readers.

While I mourn the loss of our community bulletin board, this sign intrigues me.

What does that mean, “Fuckville”? Are the people that live here “fucks”? Is this the place where everyone comes to fuck? Will we get “fucked” living here? The mutable nature of the word really causes a lot of ambiguity.

Granted, I, as a denizen of Fuc..., I mean Cabbagetown, I hope that several of the more negative implications of this sign are not valid.

On the whole, I have to chalk this up as one of my favorite nonsensical messages. It comes in a close second behind the guy who was motivated to write, in large, 12 inch high red letters, “Continental breakfast is not a real breakfast.”

Take that, establishment!