Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, June 18, 1990                   TAG: 9006180048
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: A3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

THERE'S PLENTY IN ROANOKE THAT DOESN'T SPELL 'RELIEF'

Roanoke-Lynchburg ranked 16th, which raises some serious questions.

Why was Levin doing the study? That's his problem, and he's a professor in Boston, and why's it your business?

Our concern is to figure out why we buy more antacids than 182 other cities. Foods are not a factor. El Paso, Texas, where food is presumably not for the faint of heart, uses the fewest antacids. Eureka, Calif., buys the most - probably because it is only 280 miles from dreaded Hayward, the nation's 176th-largest city.

Levin speculates that antacids and heartburn are probably more a function of societal stress - the urge to succeed and to earn - of traffic, of population growth, pollution and general upheaval.

"I think there is a tendency on the part of Americans to blame heartburn on spicy foods - Mexican or Szechuan, for example," said Levin. "From a sociological standpoint, it appears heartburn levels can be easily linked to the amount of population growth that a city is experiencing."

So why so much heartburn in the Roanoke-Lynchburg market, where caskets and Pampers seem to sell in equal amounts?

For starters, it could be the absurdity of the market itself. Roanoke and Lynchburg are one market like I am Winston Churchill.

Let's quit pretending that two cities separated by 50 miles of mountains, feedlots and Bedfords are one market. That gives me heartburn.

How about the Hunter Viaduct? So convinced were city fathers that the closing of the stilted road would bollix traffic in downtown Roanoke, they made plans for a replacement bridge at Second Street. Price: $9.8 million for the bridge and accessories. The viaduct is gone, and traffic doesn't back up. Still, plans for the replacement bridge - to alleviate traffic that doesn't exist - move forward. Pass the Rolaids.

A road linking Blacksburg and Roanoke? Good idea. But why make it simple? Let's build a "smart road," a futuristic highway that would - fasten your seat belts, fans, this is exhilarating - speak to the driver from the dashboard, telling her she is speeding, about to plunge down a ravine, nearly going to run over a woodchuck or smack into the rear end of a stalled tractor trailer at 74 mph. We need a smart road like I need heartburn. Somebody give me a Tums.

It's illegal to spit on the sidewalk in Roanoke, but it's legal for your dog to dump there. Can dogs spit legally? Can they spit at all? Aaarrgghh. The heartburn is going to kill me.

Plans for a restaurant on Mill Mountain? We use a park to build a restaurant. We tear down a public viaduct to give to a developer.

What next? Why don't we give a couple of fire trucks to a struggling house painter? How about we post a couple of on-duty cops inside the discount department store to patrol for lost kids? Let's invite a T-shirt/belt buckle shop to build a shack at midfield in Victory Stadium. We'll pay for the parking garage.

Antacid, quickly.

The Salem Bucs are mired in last place.

They'll build a new railroad track to carry garbage to a dump, but we have to drive 50 miles to get to the nearest Amtrak station.

The H&C coffee sign is still dark.

My gut. My heart. My head.

Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz.