In the Footsteps of the Walking Dead

So I just returned from vacation with Mrs. Zombie, WolfGirl, and ZombieBoy. We went to Florida and stayed on the island I used to go to every summer when I was a child. Besides the fact that I burned my poor, pale, undead skin horribly... I enjoyed myself. We stayed on the Gulf-side and I spent some time just floating in the Gulf, resting in general, and visiting some incredible Tampa-area breweries to indulge my unnatural thirst for craft beers. 

On our ride back (18+ hours in a car, with WolfGirl, who's been on vacation and eating take out food for an entire week, and the resultant gassiness aside), I was lamenting the fact that this family vacation didn't include a visit to a horror movie filming location. We did go to Ybor City in Tampa - where they filmed much of the suburb Punisher film that starred Thomas Jane and John Travolta - but it wasn't the same. 

I do plan, the next time I travel to Tampa for work, to take a jaunt down to Fort Meyers and visit the filming site of Romero's Day of the Dead. Remember the beginning? When Miguel lands on a city street and pulls out the bullhorn? That was filmed right in downtown Fort Meyers.

I also realized, as we were booking a hotel on our return trip, that we were actually stopping at the exact exit in Tennessee I would use to get to Morristown - where Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell filmed the original and sublimely incredible Evil Dead. Alas, Mrs. Zombie could not be convinced to divert our return home to plunge into the Tennessee back country and commit some minor trespassing because she wanted desperately to get home. My disappointment was crushing; or, as Mrs. Zombie said, "Quit moping about because you're sunburned, tired, and acting like a geeky fanboy who was told that he had to cancel a trip to ComicCon. You'll live."

I should add that she also, in a related conversation, denied a trip to ComicCon for family vacation next year. She is a cruel tyrant at times. Too bad she's so damned pretty, and actually willing to sleep with me, because I wouldn't put up with this otherwise. 

Oh well. I do plan to head to Morristown this fall. Watch for it!

But, I digress. Anyway, I was all mopey on the ride home, when it dawned on me that we would be driving through Atlanta! It was an incredible oversight on my part, I don't know how I didn't realize sooner that we were in the heart of Walking Dead country! 

So, I quickly unplugged my iPhone - disconnecting the creepy tones of Midnight Syndicate and The Cure to snap a quick picture. 

This is what I got: 

Although not exactly how I wanted it to look, it was close enough to make me happy. It was far too much to hope it would look like this:

Yes, I get that it's spun like 90 degrees. We were coming in on I-75 South and the iconic shot of Rick is taken from State Route 10 looking west towards I-75, but it was close enough to please that nerdy part of me that finds immense pleasure in stalking famous horror sites.

I plugged my iPhone back in, turned on some more music (or, 'that weird shit you listen to' as Mrs. Zombie calls it), and settled in to the rest of my drive; secure and pleased as I imagined the horror of a city as large as Atlanta succumbing to the ravenous, moaning zombie hordes of the undead apocalypse.

It almost made the relentless tingle and pain of my sunburn bearable.