via California where I spent the most years of my life, via Illinois where I spent the formative years of my childhood. Yet, I'm a North Carolinian. I've lived in NC since October 1996 and have worked my butt off to see this beautiful state move forward into the new century as a force to be reckoned with. Because, this state IS a force to be reckoned with in so many ways.
From the mountains of western NC, to the rolling hills and lush river valleys of the Piedmont and on to the beach towns of the Atlantic Ocean, North Carolina has so very much to offer. From rural farming, ranching and small town businesses, to large cities and communities built on technology and business acumen.
Accepting and friendly, native North Carolinian's have given me not only the time of day, but the never asked for helping hand, the asked for helping hand, a good amount of grief over my "accent" and what seems to be a continuous smile and a wink. At this point, I'm feeling like my family, who agrees with me on this, should apply for native North Carolina status, as we all agree that nothing would be finer than to...
A story in the NY Times reminded me of how much I love living here. I've lived in the Triad and now in the Triangle and would be proud to call either area of our lovely state home. Another interloper thinks so too! No matter your choice of University to pull for in sports, etc., just take a gander at this and tell me you don't agree with the sentiment. Or, better yet, tell me you do and why.
Enjoy the beautiful North Carolina weekend, my friends.
Becoming A Tar Heel
an excerpt (the entire story is here http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/26/education/edlife/26tarheels.html )
Why do you hate Duke so much?” Lauren asks. It is an innocent question but a difficult one, and one I am not used to answering. At the University of North Carolina, there are many different types of people — frat boys and flamboyant gays, football players and math geniuses, evangelical Christians and newly converted Buddhists — but it is safe to assume that all of us agree about what’s most important: hating Duke.
It is summer now and I am back in Central Park, having a picnic with my high school friends. I am trying to tell them about my freshman year without talking nonstop, which is hard. It would take an hour to explain to New Yorkers the complicated relationship between the men’s and women’s water polo teams, what I learned in my Southern literature class, or how it felt to sing the alma mater on Franklin Street after our basketball team finally took home the national championship.
At Stuyvesant High School, I never even went to a game until senior year, when I had a crush on one of the players, who was, as we often found ourselves saying, “cute for Stuy.” Sitting in the nearly empty bleachers, I and the friends I dragged along couldn’t help but laugh when the other team entered. Each player was the size of three of our boys stacked on top of one another.
U.N.C. was quite the transition. Basketball players are treated as deities, and students quote Coach Roy Williams. Professors let class out early when it’s evident students are too distracted by the N.C.A.A. tournament to concentrate on poetry. If the Heels are playing, no one asks if you’re watching the game, just where and with whom.
I watched most of the games with my friend Andy, the product of two Carolina parents and Tar Heel-bred in the classic sense. Watching the game we somehow lost to Maryland was particularly frightening. He cursed the name of Hugo Chávez (because their star, Greivis Vasquez, is Venezuelan) and flung objects, including the remote. Luckily, we didn’t lose many games this year. Most important, we didn’t lose to Duke.
If you find the time, the real meat of the article is in the remaining images and words the author conjures up, so please click the link and read the entire story.
We here at BlueNC fight hard to keep our North Carolina a great place to live and work and raise a family. Let's keep fighting even harder. North Carolina is worth every bit of our effort.