DATE: Monday, March 10, 1997                TAG: 9703070023

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B8   EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: Opinion 

SOURCE: BY ED MARKIN 

                                            LENGTH:   83 lines

ALENMONT-BY-THE-SEA: A TALE OF TWO CITIES

Hampton Roads, Va. Carmel, Calif. Opposite coasts, opposite attitudes. One trying to be recognized as a major metropolis, the other striving desperately to remain ``small.'' But that's not the major difference between them.

If for no reason other than Clint Eastwood having once been elected mayor of Carmel, virtually everyone knows where it is. Many, perhaps most, living here can't even tell you what comprises Hampton Roads' boundaries. Therein lies our problem, or at least a big part of it.

Though grounded in history, the term ``Hampton Roads'' is obscure to the point not even Virginia residents know what it refers to, let alone anyone outside the state. The image conjured by such a name is one of criss-crossed highways and confusion, not beach and bay and friendly climate.

``Carmel-by-the Sea,'' on the other hand, evokes mental pictures of sun and sea and sand. We compound this basic problem by also referring to ourselves as ``Tidewater,'' which summons ``low-tide'' images of dead fish, fiddler crabs and mud, or ``Southeast Virginia,'' which is vague to the point of obscurity.

What we need, if we're ever to gain national recognition as an entity to be reckoned with, is a name folks can remember . . . and some unity. Let's take the latter of these first.

This area - whatever we call it - is made up of numerous small and midsized cities. Each has it own government, highway, police and fire departments, school board and agenda. This is not unique. Nashville and Jacksonville faced the same situation in the past and overcame it by going ``metro''; combining under a common name to the betterment of all. Witness the fact that both Jacksonville and Nashville have recently been granted NFL franchises. Not, you'll notice, just some gap-toothed Canadians on ice, but honest-to-goodness pro football teams that bring national (read USA, not Canada) audiences to their doorsteps every Sunday during the season.

So why not us? At present there seems to be a ``me too'' attitude in some of our continent cities. This is best illustrated by Nauticus which is, at best, a dim hybridization of the Beach's Marine Science Museum and the Virginia Maritime Museum. Had they stayed with the marquee name in the business (Jacques Cousteau) as well as the original theme, there would have been international interest. Instead there is this blocky building which, if you go on the name alone, should house either a workout center or a line of men's clothing. This was a bad idea compounded by the wrongheaded thinking that, during the eight months each year when tourists aren't here, the local populace would support it by ponying-up 10 bucks a throw to see . . . a simulated Navy ship! Our population? Please.

This competition among ourselves is counterproductive, drains the taxpayers and can be halted only once we're united under a common banner. The redundancy of bureaucracies, each burg with its own everything from mayor to dogcatcher, and lack of political cooperation were cited by the NHL as prime reasons the Rhinos didn't make the cut. Oklahoma City, you'll note, was a winner in the hockey sweepstakes. Of course everyone has a pretty good idea where Oklahoma City is located, while Hampton Roads could lead to anywhere, or nowhere.

So, what to do. Norfolk has run out of room, particularly where parking is concerned, but has a true ``downtown'' area and gobs of history. Virginia Beach has outgrown its water supply but has plenty of ocean. Portsmouth is undergoing a rebirth, Suffolk is poised for imminent industrialization and Chesapeake is . . . well . . . Chesapeake seems to be taking a very prudent wait-and-watch attitude. Toss in Newport News and Hampton and we have a major metropolis worthy of notice. All have something to contribute toward a common cause, if only we can come up with a common name to rally around. Something snappy would do it.

Knowing in advance the hatred and discontent it might generate, I respectfully suggest the name Alenmont-by-the-Sea. It starts with an ``A,'' so we'd be listed at or near the top of every list of million-plus cities in the nation. It rolls off the tongue much better than does Hampton Roads and tells the world we have an ocean nearby. And just imagine an NFL franchise named the Alenmont Algonquins. Go Gonks! (OK, so the mascot would likely generate unfavorable media attention from the same folks who routinely crucify the Redskins for their name. It would still be better than a bunch of drunks going cross-eyed from wearing foam-rubber rhino horns.)

And what, you may well ask, does Alenmont actually stand for? A Little of Everything, Not Much Of NoThing. Not an indictment, mind, just an observance of the current situation and the future, as well, if we continue the status quo.

Can we cooperate enough to transform into a single metropolitan city as Nashville and Jacksonville have done? Should we? It's the only way we'll ever achieve national status. Unless, of course, Clint Eastwood is willing to change coasts. MEMO: Ed Markin is a free-lance writer in Virginia Beach.

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