Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, July 26, 1995 TAG: 9507260006
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JONATHAN HUNLEY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
My recreational calendar isn't exactly busting at the seams, no, but I'm not sure that's the point.
Roanoke seems kinda small now that I have friends who live in Chicago, New York and Philadelphia, among other points on the map.
But you know what? I bet they have a hard time finding social activity sometimes, too.
Bigger is better when referring to the linemen on the William & Mary football team, or to the size of a slice of pizza when you're staying up late in the dorm, but I don't think it necessarily holds for cities.
I read about the New Century Council and how they want our area to climb up the ladder of world importance. I don't know much about business, but that seems like a good idea.
But if Roanoke were much larger, it just wouldn't be the same. The little nuances that make life special here might vanish. Tax revenues and technological advances are good. But our fair city has character. Summer's laid back here.
I've had a fun vacation. I lounge around as much as possible.
I drink coffee downtown.
A "bowl without and two hots, just chili" are mine when I break loose from the fat-free diet bonds and sit on one of the 10 stools in the Texas Tavern.
I go to church where people know my name; not just that I'm one of those college kids who always comes in late and has to take a balcony seat.
My view is broken up by all these mountains when I look at the skyline, too. Williamsburg's flat. Flat's for the pancakes I have before going to church. I'm a mountain man.
I interviewed the publicist for the Grateful Dead one time. When I mentioned Roanoke he said he remembered the mountains from the time the band played here. And he's probably been around the world.
Whenever I see high-school chums around town, they all say they can't wait to get back to college.
They talk about their friends and the hi-jinks they experienced. Not to be outdone, I usually Iaunch into a tale of high adventure and intrigue from my freshman hall. We didn't quiet down until 3 or 4 a.m. each night, if that gives you an indication of the craziness that took place there.
It's hard not to want to go back right away when I relive those moments.
And yes, it's strange knowing that for the next few years, I'll have this confusing situation where I live in two parts of the state, each for a few months.
I was ready to bolt for college as soon as our family hauler escaped the traffic in the civic center parking lot on high school graduation day.
But my friend Todd and I came to a happy conclusion in a phone conversation one night. We don't go to school with those people we don't like anymore. And we certainly don't have to see them when we come home.
This plot of land with the gigantic neon star on the mountain may not be a major metropolitan center. It may not even be a minor one; I'm not sure.
But after surviving exams and eating cafeteria food that's nearly repulsive, it's a nice place to return to.
It's even got a former name with panache - Big Lick. I think I'll tell people that's where I'm from if they ask this semester.
"Yes. My summer home is in Big Lick," I'll say in my best Thurston Howell III impression.
by CNB