With a broken-down oven, in a hotel kitchen, on an uninhabited island
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I think I’d rather talk about Charlotte. North Carolina, that is. I really can’t be objective about Chapel Hill, and my subjectivity is too complex to put into words. But Charlotte! There’s a town I can write about cause I really don’t like that city. I can’t quite put my finger on it, you know, because it would take half my hand to really cover it all.
By now, I should know Charlotte like the back of half a hand. But I’ve never been able to bring myself to look at a street map of Charlotte. I guess it’s a mental block, or something. But I still get lost if I venture a mile from the Coliseum.
Now one might say I know a reasonable number of folks that either grew up in Charlotte or didn’t grow up. Sometimes I get the feeling that Charlotte doesn’t have a population below the age of 35. Everybody else came to Chapel Hill so they wouldn’t have to grow up anymore.
One positive aspect of Charlotte, however, is its roller skating rinks. I love to go roller skating when I go to Charlotte. I grew up in a rural environment and never had been on roller skates until the age of 24, in Charlotte. I’m still very impressed with the whole business, Zooming around, really stoned, great Pop Forty rock and roll, and yes! lots of young adolescent women. And that other age group that used to love roller skating birthday parties? Gone to Chapel Hill, where there aren’t any roller rinks or skateramas. But it is nice; rather comforting, I’m sure, to know that Charlotte is only two hours (going the back way) away. Almost too close for that real long distance phone call feeling. Maybe Charlotte will move to Texas, or something.