The Georgia Writers Hall of Fame celebrates its move into the University of Georgia Richard B. Russell Building Special Collections Library Building with a public event Thursday, Sept. 27. The morning’s activities include a light breakfast, a short video presentation about the hall of fame, librarian-led tours of the Hall of Fame’s new exhibit, and the company of current members Coleman Barks, David Bottoms, Judith Ortiz Cofer, Terry Kay and Philip Lee Williams, who will participate in a writers' literary "salon" at 10 a.m. in room 285. The informal breakfast will be served prior to the salon, and the opening of the exhibit will follow the salon.

Also, The Georgia Review recently announced that its fall 2012 edition will focus exclusively on the Hall of Fame, featuring work and commentary on the 33 members.

Hairy Ants?

I took some shirts to Professional Cleaners on Baxter Street last week. I had them in a paper sack, and they had been in my car for a day or two. When I put them on the counter and said, “No starch,” I saw that the shirts were covered with ants. Quickly, the counter was covered, too, and I started banging on them with my hands while Steve Smith, who was behind the counter, took the shirts outside and shook them. It was embarrassing, to say the least. I amended my instructions to, “No starch, no ants,” and Steve at least smiled. When I picked up the shirts, I smiled, too. He had written on the ticket, “No charge on the ants.”

When I got back to the office and told the story to Production Director Larry Tenner (How ‘bout that Atlanta Highway cover!), he gave me some Terro Ant Killer he got at Normal Hardware. The directions say it kills “Argentine ants, Ghost ants, Cornfield ants, Pavement ants, Acrobat ants, White footed ants, Little black ants, Odorous house ants, Crazy ants, Big headed ants, and other sweet-eating ants.” Who knew? I don’t know which of those I’ve got, but no more M&Ms in my old Volvo, fer sure.

I hate to say it, but the incident reminded me of the time New Way Cleaners refused my suit. I had a navy-blue wool suit that was perfect for cool-weather funerals and bank loans. One year I rode around all summer with the suit in the back of my Blazer, meaning to take it to the cleaners. Meanwhile, it served as a bed for my beagle, Tifton, when he had to wait for me in the truck. When cool weather returned along with the need for a cash infusion, I stopped by New Way and pulled my suit from behind the seat. The dark blue wool was covered, not with ants but with dog hair. I brushed it off as best I could while walking toward the cleaners, but when I got inside, Gail Gentry started shaking her head. Nope, she said, they wouldn’t touch it. That was the end of my blue suit, which was getting pretty shiny in the seat, anyway. Tifton didn’t mind.