Southern Swing, May 2010, Day 6 - Charleston to Charlotte

Another wedding in the past, another bride and groom turned into just a married couple, and another day we eat lunch and get the heck out of town.

When the Sweetwater Cafe is across the street, why walk any further?

The bags are packed. Time to leave Charleston.

On the highway between Charleston, South Carolina and Charlotte, North Carolina, I noted two points of interest. Both billboards. Both had a person's face on the left and a brief pitch to the right. The first, "Rush Limbaugh. Saving the Soul of America." The second, "Islam Rising. Be Warned." I am sure that for the first you are imagining the image correctly, but I am not sure. You see, one might have expected a terrorist type, and one would be wrong. It featured a wearing a burka. Oddly, not a flat black burka but a pretty one with purple trim.

Most interesting.

We crossed the state line from South to North, and soon we were approaching the home of our friends from Los Angeles who had relocated to Charlotte.

I was driving as we passed this mega church, the Calvary Church of Charlotte. I pulled out my iPhone and handed it to Barbie as fast as possible. The size of a sports stadium, this non-denominational evangelical church's sanctuary is 310,000 square feet and seats 5,106 people. I honestly cannot tell you if that is any bigger or smaller than the huge churches we have seen in Europe. But I will say that the architecture, for me, feels a bit temporary. I do not see people coming to this building a hundred years from now, but St, Peter's, Notre Dame, St. Paul's, and the Berliner Dom will still be there. (I had to name a non-Catholic building at the end there.)

The GPS took us right to Ari and Marcy's door, and soon we went from the hustled world hotels and restaurants to someone's home.

An actual home.

An actual child.

The answer is yes. The question is, "Couldn't you just eat her up?" For the record, this little cutie is Sephira.

Sephira's older brother, Shayne. A supercol dude. We got to play with him for a good while, and let me put it this way; if Ari and Marcy still lived in Los Angeles, we would be wanting them to go out with other friends so that we could babysit.

Sephira on Shayne's bed. You are wanting to eat her up even more now.

The babysitter arrived, and the four of us headed out to dinner.

Ari approaching... man, I forget the name of the restaurant. It is a British pub, which is appropriate because the British Colony of North Carolina named this city Charlotte after King George III's wife. Now you know why Charlotte is called Queen City and they have little royal crowns on most street signs.

For the record, the colonists thought that naming the city after his wife might make King George send a little favoritism their way. It did not work. And now I ask you to experience a "the more things change moment" and recall the small towns in America that have recently named themselves after corporations in attempt to gain favor.

Chicken Fried Chicken. Yes. Chicken Fried Chicken. Before you go judging my dinner, I have two things to tell you. Firstly, it was delicious. That creamed spinach was perfect. Secondly, it is not simply called, "Fried Chicken," because these are two boneless breasts. Fried Chicken is a piece of chicken fried, bones and all. So, you see, do not think of my Chicken Fried Chicken as some sort of super-fried monstrosity. Think of it as boneless chicken breasts, chicken fried.

We ate outside in the dark, and until Apple releases their 4th version of the iPhone I have no flash. Therefore, the above picture is brought to you in the light of Ari's Motorola Droid. A Google phone and an Apple phone, working together in harmony.

After dinner we went for a drive to downtown Charlotte, which they call, "Uptown," in an effort to give it that upper class vibe. As in it is a good part of town. They are very aware of such things in Charlotte. Before non-Charlotteans judge that little bit of verbal trickery, note that Charlotte was chosen the "Best Place To Live In America" by Relocate-America.com in 2008. You cannot win the big prize without a little strategy.

Yes, the people of Charlotte are officially called, "Charlotteans." I looked it up.

On our way into Uptown.

I absolutely love it.

Barbie, Marcy, and Ari, walking into the EpiCentre. A modernly designed outdoor mall with, no joke, the best theaters in North America, a bowling alley that belongs in Hollywood, restaurants, shopping, a W Hotel, and, um, everything else you could ask for.

The escalators up to the movie theaters. You can see my three companions get closer and closer while the lighting changes. These theaters feature huge, cushy seats and you can literally order a steak dinner and a beer and have them brought to your seat.

Hollywood-style bowling in North Carolina. Behind these bowlers is a massive bar and lounge area that was filled with young attractive people of all backgrounds. The Queen City shows her cosmopolitan side, my friends.

Not a great picture, but I have this thing about sky scrapers at night.

From the lobby of the W Hotel, around six floors up.

Alas, it is time for Ari and Marcy to get home and let the sitter go on her way, and time for us to head to our hotel.

The Ballantyne, A Luxury Collection Hotel. Hey, that's what they have on every piece of paper in this hotel.

I find it funny that I have to take a picture of every hotel lobby.

Looks like home.

They upgraded us to a suite, which meant two large rooms connected by a door, but one room had a living room layout and the other a bedroom layout. Basically, enough room for us to spend the rest of our lives there. And two full bathrooms!

But, in spite of the fact that there was a two room suite for me to show you, this is all you get.

The bed. The TV. The feet.

Home.