Keeping Up with the Belks

Begin at Settler’s Cemetery, 5:00pm is social hour.
Notice the bottle blonde in a skirt suit
talking to the banker in neatly pressed chinos.
Next to them, a yorkie taking a shit
on the grave of founder Thomas Polk.
Downwind a homeless man on a bench,
encircled by empty tallboys of Pabst,
can smell the desecration.

Continue towards Trade noting the
Presbyterian Church that occupies an entire city block
in spitting distance from a bank headquarters.
Can you feel the expansive weight of institutional thought
pressing down on the flowering dogwoods?

Pass buildings not quite old enough to tear down
and place a commemorative plaque in front of,
but still not new and shiny enough to
warrant further mention.

Head towards Trade and Tryon,
the historic center of “Uptown”
and speculate on the origin of that expression.
The truth of which, I can assure you,
is buried in government documents
along with who really killed Kennedy
and moved the Hornets out of town

If you’re feeling daring,
stand in the middle of the intersection, amidst the
swarming cars, and read the bronze plate
signifying the Mecklenburg Declaration
Contemplate the revolutionary past of the city.
Can you see this history shape us today?
If you can, let us know.

Walk south on Tryon towards the new Duke Energy building,
Yes, it does move on an immense hydraulic
rigging that allows it to follow the
path of the sun.
Catch the light shows every night at 10:00 and 11:00pm,
but don’t stare directly into the LEDs
or you risk losing your ability
to produce analytical thought.

Head back northwards to the city center
passing Ratcliffe Flowers, Latta Arcade,
an inscription to Jefferson Davis,
and stretch your hand up to the B-of-A tower.
Touch the Queen’s imposing crown.
If you prick your finger on the top spindle,
you’ll fall asleep for 100 years.

And if you ever get the chance,
drive outside the city,
approximately 80 miles West,
and hike Grandfather Mountain,
the morning immediately following the rain.
You can see Charlotte pinned to the horizon,
piedmont mirage in an ocean of trees.
Pillars swaying in the heat,
tiny dicks penetrating the sky.
Consider the founders, the CEOS,
the architects, the city planners…
Who, do you think, was pointy?
Who was round?
Who was long?
Who was standard?
Who was dangerous?
Overcompensating?
Who was narrow?
Who was broad?
Who was dreaming?

Today, via Charlotte Viewpoint, I found my way to an old mashable post (original Menshealth) that shows Charlotte ranking 21^st in the nation for the most socially networked cities. My reaction is not so much surprise as it is, “so what?” No, really, who gives a flying fudge? Have you been on Charlotte social media lately? I think if you have, even a little, then you’re probably feeling the same thing. (Caution: generalizations ahead)

The reason this “news” doesn’t surprise me points to the reason why it also annoys me: there’s too many damn people on Charlotte social media already. But BUT social media is for everyone, it bolsters revolutions, it can and will and is changing the world! SQUEE! GLITTER PONIES!

Social Media

All that may be true. But it’s not true a lot of the time in Charlotte. Because in Charlotte, social media (especially facebook, twitter, blogs/news sites, and now, sadly, google+) sounds a lot less revolutionary and a lot more like, well, Rebecca Fucking Black.

Let me give you a summary of all that has happened on Charlotte social media since the dawn of social media:

ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! ME!

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

There, you’re all caught up. Listen, I know I’m just as guilty as everyone else. And yes, it’s great that lots of people in our city are using these platforms (some of them even for good). But all it seems to have amounted to is a lot of wasted potential and some really REALLY annoying feeds.

make it stop

To provide the inevitable counter example (eye-roll alert, matt tyndall): Pittsburgh, my former home, ranked 63 on the mashable list. That’s a C- according to the study, and over 40 places behind Charlotte. And yet Pittsburgh is home to a personal/city blogger “Pitt Girl” who has raised, to date, $15,000 (FIFTEEN THOUSAND!) to provide in-room gaming to kids on the transplant floor of Children’s Hospital. She used her “personal brand” not to snag herself a personal opportunity, but to help sick kids. She used her network not to shout from the rooftops how amazing she is (which is true), but to score even more free stuff for the kids from Microsoft. And in case that wasn’t enough to convince you, Pittsburgh is also home to Secret Agent L, a blogger who leaves random bits of cheer (notes, flowers, gift cards) around the city just to brighten people’s days. So, yeah, Pittsburgh has a lot less people using social media, but it’s hard not to feel like they are doing SO MUCH MORE. And if you’re cynical, you might also notice how powerful the online reputation is for those committed to helping others (as opposed to helping themselves by default).

I can accept the need for what is called a personal brand; I can admit that people in social media and other professions need those big personal opportunities to help their careers. I’m happy for all my friends who have found jobs, clients, comfort, support, and once-in-a-lifetime offers by broadcasting on all channels. But as long as we keep only “doing us,” we will never be great. We won’t be using the tools the way they ought to be used. We will just be boring, self promotional, shitasses. Maybe that’s who we are, but I don’t think so. I think we can do more, be more. Especially when it comes to the DNC.

For example: Charlotte new media, with the help of traditional media, has created some local social media celebrities. It speaks to our character that people have made careers out of having a local audience. I love the people on twitter who bring needed information or levity to my life.* Yet, as a member of the local and online community I have also endured (and unfortunately, made others endure), in addition to the fun, a floppity gillion tweets, blog and facebook posts aimed fundamentally at promoting a local someone’s individual reputation or career. Now I feel that I–and most importantly, this city–deserve a little ROI.

Did you notice how, when the convention was announced, the eyes in hundreds of local twitter avatars turned into cartoonish looking dollar signs? Did you read all the facebook posts that said, “this is going to be great for me, er, charlotte.”  I hope the DNC boosts the national perception of our city, and hope that local social medians play a significant role in shaping those opinions. After all, locals profiting and benefiting from the convention is why cities agree to host these things in the first place. Plus, I’ve always known that Charlotte voices have value, especially in telling the story of the place we call home. But I’m worried about that story actually getting told, getting heard on social media above our personal noise.

This convention could be so much more than the unprecedented personal/business/social media opportunity that we are treating it as.  It’s my opinion that local twitterati/social media mavericks owe Charlotte something, and September 2012 is when payment comes due. Is it impressive, really, that local citizen journalists will live-tweet this event with the best of them? Photos and tweets of “here I am inside the arena, I can smell Obama” aren’t going to cut it. So let’s, right now, stop naval gazing and start supporting others. Let’s let the nation see how we can use our online community to improve our physical one.  Let’s imagine something bigger than ourselves. Let’s make room for the people coming in 2012, for the city to shine. That’s the real story, after all, not us. And when we read about it on social media, we should be able to tell the difference.**

*(For the record, I don’t put myself into this category AT ALL, but I recognize a certain responsibility to even the very very small following I’ve built. I’m working on becoming less of a shit-ass.)

** This post is meant to change the dialogue surrounding Charlotte social media in general and the DNC  in particular.

Today on Facebook, Charlotte Viewpoint asked fans to share what three things they ALWAYS carry in either their bags or pockets. They also offered a picture to get us started. Apparently someone at the magazine ALWAYS carries an orange, a spoon, a writer’s notebook, and what appears to be a pack of gum (likely purchased at Common Market). For those of you counting: you’re welcome.

Next, reader Jonathan chimed in that he ALWAYS carries way more than three things a camera (ding!), a moleskin (ding!), first aid kit,a rain poncho, a multitool, toiletries (of unknown count and variety), and a fire-starter. He sounds like quite the outdoor enthusiast. I would guess a frequent hiker/camper. In fact, Johnathan is so serious about getting in touch with nature, and likely doing his photojournalism and foliage sketches at the same time, that he ALWAYS carries his rain poncho with him, even to his job in uptown.

Not wanting to be outdone by the sheer awesomeness of the hipster/”creative”/”grassroots” boho/OMGTHISISTOTALLYREPRESENTATIVEOFWHOIREALLYAMIALWAYSCARRYTHISSTUFF offerings made by CLTViewpoint and Jon, I now humbly offer my own examples:

Canadian Hobart, a grapfruit, and Aristrocrat Tequila

I ALWAYS carry the above three items because I believe in healthy eating and drinking heavily while I research literary magazines and plan my next short story submission. I know I’m going to get accepted this time, I just know it.

Rasputin, a russian nesting doll, pocket copy of the New Testament

I ALWAYS carry my three-legged rescue dog, a matryoshka (whiiiiich was actually purchased in Russia in 2006 and not from Urban outfitters or Modcloth in 2010), and a pocket New Testament that I ironically took from a preacher on UNCC’s campus. Because you never know when you might need them.

And finally,

Wallet, keys, sunglasses. Artfully displayed on polished concrete. Not pictured: cellphone.

I ALWAYS carry my wallet, keys, and sunglasses. Wherever I go. Because, after all, I’m a real person.

So I know that no one follows this blog anymore because I never write anything, but for those two people who are still subscribed to the RSS and for my friends and family members who check it dutifully, this is for you:

In August this blog is changing, and my twitter account will become @myrealname (and subsequently, a lot less snarky). Why? Because in August I officially become a college instructor.

This was a hard decision for me because as I’ve blogged and tweeted about and ranted to friends frequently, I believe in personas, online anonymity, and professional freedom of speech. I won’t go off on a tangent here except to say that 1) transparency ought to be a top-down revolution, 2) the overall privatization of our society keeps us from having conversations we ought to be having and from challenging false notions, and 3) using twitter/facebook to self-socialize and normalize the masses leads people to be ultimately a lot less transparent, profiles more constructed, and online tools less “revolutionary”.  By encouraging transparency and simultaneously asking users to monitor their language and thoughts in the interest of future employers, we are just recreating our current society with all its expectations in a virtual space—a place where the “little guy” has the most to lose and often does (teachers, waitresses, etc.)—instead of allowing really different new rules and norms to develop. Though things exist online “forever” and it’s public to some extent and on and on, people should be able to speak their minds, in their language, without judgment. Especially when what they are saying online would have to be “dug up” by a customer, client, or child in order to offend.

Yet as I say and firmly believe all of the above, I am aware of the very real problems facing educators right now. Though I feel reassured to be in a university environment where I am treated like a professional, I also know that budget cuts face universities and public school alike and if I manage to cross the blurry line they’d be more than happy to stop signing my paycheck. And sure I’m anonymous, but those who have been following me awhile know that I’m really NOT and that plenty of people have met me, seen me, or heard my name.

More than my fear of pissing off administrators, though, is my concern for what my future students will think if they come across @meckcharlotte or KUWTB. I’m a relatively young female and first time teacher, so for one, I don’t think my students need to be reading about my ex boyfriends or trips to Brazil. Also, as much as I love snark and think this city (and university) deserves a healthy dose, I also realize that negativity can be defeating.  As someone who is about to be scrutinized by a bunch of 18-year-olds I must  be wary of sharing my concerns publicly  and poking fun turning into or being interpreted as outright complaining and mocking.  And if I am to teach my students that rhetoric has consequences, I must also think about the consequences of them hearing that I’m frustrated with the school administration or think  99% of Mac users are impressionistic trend-followers (not really! Jk! Lol!) But in all seriousness, if just one tweet or post made a student think that I was untrustworthy, mocking them or their beliefs/interests, mean, angry, that I didn’t have faith in the school system or that school was way too difficult for me so it might be for them too, etc., well then, I just couldn’t live with that.

Much has been said about teachers operating online profiles positively, and I do not mind and kind of would like my students to be able to see that I am a real person who has a real life. But a lot of “meck,” especially my earlier uses, is partially constructed and partially real. In the end, I am a fiction writer, and my goal and purpose for this blog/my twitter account has always been, first and foremost, to tell a good story.  Being semi-anonymous, semi-fictional online is all kinds of problematic for a teacher. I need to be one or the other, so (and it seems obvious) I will just be me.  

And, since you are thinking it, YES, I am compromising somewhat on my beliefs. But it was never my dream to be a tweeter or a blogger. It is my dream to be a teacher and writer. And for now, and for my professional level, I have to cut back on the snark. And it is time for me, personally, to own what I’ve written, to sign my name to my best work and best self. I still believe the internet needs anonymous voices, blogs and twitter and facebook, now and forever. But, I think, it no longer needs me(ck).

(until then I plan on writing A LOT on here, so stay tuned. I will bitch for as long as possible)

By now you’ve probably read about the new Penguin. The sparkly chairs, the state of the fried pickles, the souvenir promo cups. You may have even eaten there already, or principle kept you away. Today, curiosity got the best of me. I wish it hadn’t.

The changes are small. So small that they shouldn’t bother me. It’s no big deal the counter by the door is gone, three extra tables in its place. Likewise, the refillable diner ketchup and mustard bottles being replaced by the same grocery store disposables that people keep in their fridges doesn’t matter much. In the grand scheme of things, the old Budweiser Clydesdale sign above the jukebox being swapped for an antique cash register isn’t a reason not to come back. The framed newspaper clippings instead of local award plaques, the penguin merch pinned up by the classic “BARBECUE”  bother me more. If I had to pin-down the main source of my dislike, I’d like to stick it on the careful corporate wit of the new menu items. The “single successful guy”, “I can hear you getting fatter”? The salads. I could declare that I can’t love a Penguin without cheerwine bottles, $5 pitchers of beer, and people camped out at the bar.

But then again, the kitchen is more open. Light pours in the windows allowing a view of Thomas Street. There are only five posters taped up by the bar, the shows they’re advertising seem tame, normal. The speakers are playing oldies.  The tables are full. The food still comes out like it always has, hot and cheap. I can actually hear my boyfriend talking to me from across the table. We don’t smell like grease when we leave. And I get it. I see why they changed it, and why people will like it.  Everything is as polished and straight as the flat-ironed brown hair of the three pleasant but forgettable waitresses.

So why can’t I reconcile the good with the bad? Or should I really be asking, why are some places special and others aren’t?

My boyfriend thinks it’s the food. It’s not as good, he says. It’s nothing special, like a burger from a food truck, a state fair. I don’t think it’s that different. No better or worse than a growing list of competitors. If it is, the changes on this level are imperceptible. The pickles are still oily and salty, the burgers still juicy, the buns still un-toasted.  But that’s not why we came here, is it?

It takes a kind of magic, a mix between atmosphere and food to create a restaurant like the old Penguin. That’s why we like dives.  And that’s how places like Cheescake Factory and IHOP stay in business. Is it delicious, is it comfortable, is it cheap or appropriately expensive, is it all of the above? Or, is it ours? There’s a reason we don’t eat in plain white boxes, why we feel affection for both gas-station pulled pork and chicken curry in candle-light. There’s no great gap in culinary mastery separating this Penguin from Pinkys. But the food tastes better there, doesn’t it, wrapped in a great building, a new neighborhood, a story we can get behind?

I think we never did go to the Penguin because of the food, in spite of the atmosphere. I think we went for the atmosphere and stayed for the food. We liked our conversation drowned out by music, our pint glasses full, the cloves we shared in the parking lot. We went for the experience, the kind of night it made. The presence of decent burgers and thick sweet potato fries aren’t going to be enough to keep us coming back. And so, my boyfriend might be right after all. It does have something to do with flavor, spice, taste. Key ingredients missing.

The city imposed itself on the landscape, stretching its arms as far and thin as possible. Each week day workers were folded into its embrace and then released back into the emerald promise of easily accessible suburbs. In fact, its whole existence seemed to be justified by the reassurance “don’t worry, you don’t have to stay.” So no one did.

Gentlemen. Ladies. This. THIS. Is going to be so much fun!

Where to start…?

1) Is there a word for something that’s so bad it’s good? If not, the word for it should be this video. I’ve watched “It’s so much fun to be this good” (ISMF2BTG) enough times now to normalize the cheesy original composition and camera shots of all the must-visit Charlotte attractions (pause for awkward self-aware moment to realize that almost everything going on in this city can fit into a 3:08 clip) and I’m no longer throwing up in my mouth and I’m thinking…we’ve got an Appalachian is Hot Hot Hot video on our hands! Quick, someone scrape this ish and put it on youtube. Charlotte’s about to be featured on Tosh.0

2) Actually, this video is better than AIHHH.  Does the App video apologize for it’s very existence the way ISMF2BTG does when they sing “It’s okay to pat our backs.”  Seriously, that’s one of the lyrics. And it must be asked, at this point, is it? Is it really okay?

3) I don’t know what tickles me more, the fact that some Charlotte company, or, God forbid, taxpayer funded entity, commissioned not only this video but the song that goes with it and probably paid a butt-ton of money for it. Your money, that you don’t have much of but still have been respectfully and dutifully depositing into the local economy. It was spent on this video. To the tune of 10,000+ dollars it easily cost to produce (and that’s a low-ball guestimate). And this was the outcome. An expensive and meticulously produced statement of who we are, to ourselves and the world. The best image of Charlotte that money could buy. Or, OR the fact that one of those images includes, shit you not,  Target and Home Depot signs. Come to Charlotte, ya’ll! We got Target and Home Depot now! Oh, actually, um, this is awkward, but that Home Depot went out of business.  

4) So what we really have here is our very own version of the Cleveland Tourism Video, except decidedly unsnarky and actually, taking itself quite seriously. I’ve read recently in several vaunted Charlotte publications that the future of this city is in the creative job market. I must now, respectfully, disagree.

5) How long til we can get this song auto-tuned?