The Six-Foot Giant

It’s odd to drive around Chapel Hill now. I grew up in this town, navigating on foot or by bike long before I could drive, not bothering to learn the names of streets because I never needed to. Even now, it takes me a second to switch gears in my head if I’m giving directions to someone from out of town, to name the streets themselves instead of the things that the street leads to or by. Not everyone knows Columbia Street first and foremost as the corner street that runs across Franklin by Spanky’s and Top of the Hill, the intersection that becomes a mosh pit on very lucky nights. Few and ever fewer folks will recognize what I mean when I say “if you go by the old Breadman’s lot, you’ve gone too far,” or that your best bet would be to “turn left before you get to Linda’s” if you’re looking for parking in the Rosemary Deck.

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