Atticus   

I know it’s an American institution. I know the curvy glass bottle is recognized throughout the world. I know it’s so ingrained in the South’s collective consciousness that people here, including me, refer to soft drinks as “cokes.”

But I’m uncertain about the addition of a museum dedicated to all things Coca-Cola at Centennial Park here in Atlanta. It’s like Katie Couric anchoring a national newscast or ER running another season: You know it’s gonna happen, yet you feel there’s something not quite right about it.

I understand why the city wants Coke to relocate its version of Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory. For years, tourists and people attending conventions or big weekend sporting events have wandered like zombies after punching their ticket on their only one option for entertainment: the CNN tour at CNN Center.

But now the park, which is closing in on 10 years since its debut, is flanked by the city’s “up yours” to Chattanooga, the massive new Georgia Aquarium, which sits on the banks of … of … Anyway, the new marine-life attraction is drawing huge crowds and making weekends downtown no longer the domain of only the homeless.

Next door, the new World of Coke will only add to the alternatives for people visiting Atlanta.

But when you break it down, it’s still just a museum dedicated to a product. More specifically, a product with enough processed sugar in it for a four-tiered wedding cake.

And what happens if the drink falls prey to the food fundies or falls out of fashion? The Atkins diet craze has already brought Krispy Kreme to its knees.

Something about it just feels weird. Stupid, I know. But it makes me wish the proposed symphony hall was slated for the Centennial Park area.