It's so easy to trash BUCKHEAD
that we wondered whether giving it this dubious honor would be overkill. But, after much contemplation, we decided it has to go, in much the same spirit that a forest fire destroys the old growth so it can regenerate and start life anew. Look, one of the biggest raps against Atlanta is that it lacks character, or just plain soul.
And nowhere do those concerns ring truer than in Buckhead. Perhaps it was inevitable that marrying a tony neighborhood with a college bar district is a clash of civilizations without precedent. But worse than that, the scene is just tired. Even on an ironic level, it's hard to appreciate the place, stuffed as it is with such a vomitous mass of belly-baring belles, backward-baseball cap-wearing belligerent blowhards, and bars bulging with bad music, wayward conventioneers and warm draft beer. True, places like Fado's, the Rose & Crown and, OK, even maybe the Buckhead Saloon deserve kudos for keeping it real. But they are the exceptions that prove the rule. Gen. Sherman, can you give us a controlled burn?