It was a crowded drive up I-65 from New Orleans to Atlanta.  I was happy to be on the road, but felt like I was being herded like a sheep.  It didn't get much better when I was instructed to meet my client for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing. The group event was put on by my Atlanta based client who was apparently trying to show off his "Southern" by hosting the party at Aunt Pittypat's Porch, a nice enough, if a bit over-done recreation of a Rhet and Scarlett era mansion. Read more...