On Dampness
 |
| Some inclement weather |
Monday, June 27, 2016
Charlotte, NC
Outside the Game:
I headed out early on Monday to get the two-hour drive to Charlotte out of the way. I assumed that there would be something to do for the afternoon in Charlotte, but it turns out that most of the museums were closed on Mondays. Undaunted, I parked on the street in downtown and decided to suss out what I could.
The Bechtlet Museum of Modern Art was open, so despite my predilections against the subject, I decided to take a gander to kill some time. For the most part, it was modern art, which was disappointing, but there was an exhibit on modern functionist furniture as well as sculptor Alberto Giacometti that made the excursion worthwhile.
I found myself out in late lunchtime, so I took a walk around downtown and grabbed a sandwich at a local sub joint. On the way back to my car, I found a St. Peter's church, which was just amusing enough for me to spend a little time in their garden. I then went out to my hotel by the airport to settle in and grab a shower and nap, as per custom in this humid world I was traveling in.
There was no on-street parking available at the park, so I had to go into a lot down the street. I killed some time in the large park across the street from the stadium and then went to stand in line. There was an older black man already in line, wearing the kind of floppy hat that my uncle used to wear to annoy my mother, so I immediately liked him. We got to talking, and he was out enjoying a ballgame while his wife's sister was in town. He was of the opinion that they didn't need him there to talk to each other all night and ignore him. The logic was quite sound. The gates opened, and we went on our separate ways.
In the process of my walking around and pictures, I found that there was a meatloaf sandwich concession, so I obviously got a meatloaf sandwich.
But before the game could get started, I was rousted from my seat on the first-base side by rain that hit just as the tarp went out on the field.
And it rained and rained on the good-sized crowd, who were now huddled below most of the overhangs the park had to offer. I got hot dog after a while, and struck up a conversation with a home-plat concession guy for lack of anything better to do.
But the rain eventually kept coming, and the game was called before a pitch was thrown.
Such is the South in late June.
The drive back to the hotel was rainy and depressing, as can be imagined. I went to bed pretty early and decided to figure out what to do the next morning.
The Accommodations:
A moment needs to be spent on the Southern head nod. You find the head nod in the North as well, but it is ever-present in the South. It is not just a no-contact greeting, it is a contract that everything is going to be okay. No two people head nod to each other and then get into a fight. It is a promise of civility.
I had been tracking my exposure to it with interest for the duration of this trip, but it came into focus this afternoon when I was checking into the Clarion Hotel Airport. As I was going to my room, the room across the hall from me was populated by several college-aged kids who were being loud and rowdy on the way to the room. I was getting a little concerned, but as I went into the room, the ringleader gave me a nod, and I gave him a nod, and I knew it was going to be okay. And it was. And there's something beautiful in that.
The Clarion was part of two hotel complex that was next to the airport convention center, and it was interesting in being something trapped in the 70s, but desperately trying to be renovated into something more modern. If you passed through the hallway connecting the hotels, you entered into the big area that used to be a pool and a restaurant, but was now re-made as neither thing. There were still cabanas and tables, and you could still see the outlines of the pool area, but it was all covered in AstroTurf in a way that was both horrific and beautiful at the same time. Horrifically beautiful, if you will.
I took the stairway up to my room on the second floor, and the door to the stairs was not quite full height. And there were dead cockroaches in the hallway. There were a lot of weird little anachronisms like that in the place. I can't say whether I was attracted or repulsed by them. The restaurant in the adjoining hotel, for example, was long folding tables covered in cheap table cloths and served from... somewhere... in a way that I was fascinated by, but not enough to actually eat there.
My room was nice enough. There was the standard bathroom off the side, and the king-sized bed across from a desk, dresser, and TV. It would serve for a lot longer than I intended, but I can't really complain. I remain curiously ambivalent about the entire experience.
Outside the Game:
I headed out early on Monday to get the two-hour drive to Charlotte out of the way. I assumed that there would be something to do for the afternoon in Charlotte, but it turns out that most of the museums were closed on Mondays. Undaunted, I parked on the street in downtown and decided to suss out what I could.
 |
| The museum is the art |
The Bechtlet Museum of Modern Art was open, so despite my predilections against the subject, I decided to take a gander to kill some time. For the most part, it was modern art, which was disappointing, but there was an exhibit on modern functionist furniture as well as sculptor Alberto Giacometti that made the excursion worthwhile.
I found myself out in late lunchtime, so I took a walk around downtown and grabbed a sandwich at a local sub joint. On the way back to my car, I found a St. Peter's church, which was just amusing enough for me to spend a little time in their garden. I then went out to my hotel by the airport to settle in and grab a shower and nap, as per custom in this humid world I was traveling in.
 |
| BB&T Ballpark |
There was no on-street parking available at the park, so I had to go into a lot down the street. I killed some time in the large park across the street from the stadium and then went to stand in line. There was an older black man already in line, wearing the kind of floppy hat that my uncle used to wear to annoy my mother, so I immediately liked him. We got to talking, and he was out enjoying a ballgame while his wife's sister was in town. He was of the opinion that they didn't need him there to talk to each other all night and ignore him. The logic was quite sound. The gates opened, and we went on our separate ways.
 |
| A meatloaf sandwich fixes most things |
In the process of my walking around and pictures, I found that there was a meatloaf sandwich concession, so I obviously got a meatloaf sandwich.
But before the game could get started, I was rousted from my seat on the first-base side by rain that hit just as the tarp went out on the field.
 |
| Sad panda |
And it rained and rained on the good-sized crowd, who were now huddled below most of the overhangs the park had to offer. I got hot dog after a while, and struck up a conversation with a home-plat concession guy for lack of anything better to do.
But the rain eventually kept coming, and the game was called before a pitch was thrown.
Such is the South in late June.
The drive back to the hotel was rainy and depressing, as can be imagined. I went to bed pretty early and decided to figure out what to do the next morning.
The Accommodations:
 |
| Clarion Hotel Airport |
A moment needs to be spent on the Southern head nod. You find the head nod in the North as well, but it is ever-present in the South. It is not just a no-contact greeting, it is a contract that everything is going to be okay. No two people head nod to each other and then get into a fight. It is a promise of civility.
I had been tracking my exposure to it with interest for the duration of this trip, but it came into focus this afternoon when I was checking into the Clarion Hotel Airport. As I was going to my room, the room across the hall from me was populated by several college-aged kids who were being loud and rowdy on the way to the room. I was getting a little concerned, but as I went into the room, the ringleader gave me a nod, and I gave him a nod, and I knew it was going to be okay. And it was. And there's something beautiful in that.
The Clarion was part of two hotel complex that was next to the airport convention center, and it was interesting in being something trapped in the 70s, but desperately trying to be renovated into something more modern. If you passed through the hallway connecting the hotels, you entered into the big area that used to be a pool and a restaurant, but was now re-made as neither thing. There were still cabanas and tables, and you could still see the outlines of the pool area, but it was all covered in AstroTurf in a way that was both horrific and beautiful at the same time. Horrifically beautiful, if you will.
I took the stairway up to my room on the second floor, and the door to the stairs was not quite full height. And there were dead cockroaches in the hallway. There were a lot of weird little anachronisms like that in the place. I can't say whether I was attracted or repulsed by them. The restaurant in the adjoining hotel, for example, was long folding tables covered in cheap table cloths and served from... somewhere... in a way that I was fascinated by, but not enough to actually eat there.
My room was nice enough. There was the standard bathroom off the side, and the king-sized bed across from a desk, dresser, and TV. It would serve for a lot longer than I intended, but I can't really complain. I remain curiously ambivalent about the entire experience.
2016 The Carolinas
No comments:
Post a Comment