Steve Munsell/Contagious Graphics Article, August 1996 Issue

Designing Men

by Cindy Sites
August, 1996 volume 1, number 12

Steve Munsell started working with graphics about eight years ago. “I wanted to do a punk rock fanzine,” he says. Hoping he could learn to keep expenses down, Munsell took a graphics class. He did the ’zine, and as he puts it, “now here I am.” Indeed he is — you can’t drive two blocks without seeing his work decorating cars, telephone poles or store windows. The Üblisch stickers have to be the most successful sticker campaign by any local band.

Munsell claims to have “no talent” for drawing, though he admits, “I have a good eye for assembling clip art.” His work spans from unusual typefaces (on the Üblisch and assfactor 4 stickers) to what he calls “’50s pop art posters.” These larger, multicolor poster versions of some of his flyers are simply gorgeous.

Munsell likes to use cartoon figures with thought balloons, and other weird images (devils, motorcycles, 18-wheelers). A poster he did for a Buzzov-en show features a neon-colored astronaut blowing his brains out with a raygun. Seeing examples of his work here in black-and-white can’t do justice to the originals.

Despite his distinctive style, Munsell says the most important quality of a design is “legibility. I think [graphic art] should be for the common people, not the artistic crowd.”

Speaking of ornate designs, why have flyers in Charlotte gotten so much fancier in the last few years? “It’s all due to the age of the home computer,” Munsell believes. “I think it helps to be more eye-pleasing, but when someone does something simpler, people don’t notice the difference.” A delicate balance must be struck between artistry and practicality.

Aside from designing and printing, Munsell also does some distribution. He’s got a scheme for handing out flyers: “I always go, ‘Ah, would you like a free sheet of paper advertising my band?’” Anyone who’s ever handed out flyers knows that a lot of people are reluctant to accept them. Munsell comments on “the funny stuff people say … I think mostly people just say, ‘I’ve already got one.’” Once, a guy who Munsell had given a flyer gave the flyer back to him later that night, using the same “free sheet of paper” line.

Of all his different types of work — t-shirts, stickers, flyers, posters and newspaper ads — he usually enjoys doing t-shirts the most, “because you have more room to work with, you can have a bigger image. Flyers too, because they can be really funny” (i.e. the aforementioned cartoon characters, devils and suicidal astronauts).

T-shirts must be fun, because Munsell wants to start doing his own line of them in the future.

Nosey as the question is, one has to wonder if freelance graphic design is something a person could make a living at in Charlotte. “The whole printing business is feast or famine … you can make a living at it, but sometimes it’s hard. There are short spells and tall spells,” Munsell admits. He recently got a steady-paying job doing the same things he does on his own.

Devin Thompson got his start in graphic design about three years ago, when he and some friends started throwing parties in an 8th Street warehouse. “When we started throwing parties there [I did flyers], and I had help from other people who lived there,” he says. “Victor at Kinko’s taught me a lot on the computer.”

About that computer — Thompson has a preference. “Macintosh is much better for graphics, when you get a fast one.” His most useful tool is a SyQuest portable hard drive, “which makes things super easy,” he says. He loads his software into the SyQuest. “I like manipulating artwork,” he says, so computers are important to his work. He admits, “I’m not a very good artist with a pen, but with a computer it’s different.”

His work has expanded from party flyers, to flyers for club shows, ads for clubs, membership cards and tickets. He gets ideas for his work from “feedback from people. Jody [Baha owner] has helped me a lot,” Thompson says.

Thompson, like Munsell, considers readability the most important factor in flyer design. “It’s pretty much worthless to put up a flyer that nobody can read,” he asserts. “Sometimes the most simple flyers are the best ones … Electro-luxe’s flyers have simple letters. Simple things are eye-catching,” Thompson says.

That said, he does believe the art on a flyer is important, which is obvious from looking at his ominous work. “It definitely helps to have an eye-catching, two-color flyer,” he says. As for paper stock, Thompson has found that “thin paper is a real turn-off.” A good quality flyer, he believes, can be folded up, stuck in a pocket and survive a couple of runs through the washer and dryer.

Thompson does most of his own flyer distribution. “There are some people who don’t want to be bothered. I just walk up and say, ‘Here, put this in your pocket,’” he says.

As for his other work, his ads for the Baha and Pterodactyl clubs can be found in local entertainment papers. You might run across one of Thompson’s Septic Tank stickers or t-shirts.

When asked about his favorite kind of graphics to work on, Thompson jokingly replies, “I guess driver’s licenses, social security cards and birth certificates are my favorite. It’s amazing how well a 600 dpi color printer prints.” (It's a joke.)

Thompson’s future may include tape and CD covers. As for other plans? “I’m pretty much open to anything. I don’t have anything particular in mind. I’d like to get more practice with four-color separation. I’d like to do some rave flyers … I’ll do anything, unless it’s a Christian organization.” His ominous style isn’t exactly holy.

Jeff Clayton says he started drawing “as soon as I could pick up a pen or pencil and know kinda what to do with it.” Unlike Munsell and Thompson, Clayton draws his work by hand. “I’ve never used a computer. I don’t know how to use a computer. I don’t know when I’ll learn, either,” he laughs.

Though Clayton does a lot of Antiseen’s art, he does hire other artists. “I hired an artist named Krites, who did some work on our CD that’s not out yet. Nick Boogas, who also gets hired by Charles Manson and Anton LaVey; a guy named Chas Bally — these guys, their art I admire a whole lot, even if people say it looks like what I do. I guess that’s why I like ‘em, ‘cause we’re kinda doing the same thing, even though I think these guys are a lot better. I think I’ve got a lot to learn from these guys,” Clayton says.

As for the famous Antiseen logo: “A friend of mine typeset that for me a long time ago, and we’ve used it ever since. I like it because it’s bold, easy to read, unlike a lot of these death metal groups, that you’ve got to hold it back, turn it upside down,” chuckles Clayton.

Clayton’s done art for G.G. Allin, Cotton Noose, Rancid Vat, Jesus Crust, Alcoholics Unanimous, Knifedance, Seducer — “a lot more, over the years,” Clayton says. Obviously, he thinks band art is important. “It says a lot. There are groups who put abstract paintings on them, and I guess a certain crowd understands and appreciates that, but I would never pick it up … but somebody’s head exploding or something, I would look at. That’s just me. I’m also a fan of having the band on the cover. That doesn’t happen a lot anymore. In the ’60s and ’70s, the group was always on the front. That’s why we’re always on the front,” says Clayton.

In addition to record covers, Clayton has designed t-shirts, CD covers and posters. “I really don’t have the time to do it full time, or I would. I really enjoy it. The groups I work for, everything they ask for is right up my alley,” he enthuses. “A local group called the Reviled asked for a boar, a goat and a hyena holding guns and stuff, and I said, ‘I can do that. That sounds like something I’d like to do.’ ...[other bands] have just said, ‘Go, whatever you want to do.’ But I have to tell ‘em I don’t do realistic, portrait, airbrush-looking stuff. I tried that when I was still discovering what I’m best suited for. Regular black-and-white, pen-and-ink style is what I’ve done for years,” he says.

Clayton's influences aren't hard to spot. “I was real influenced by the old cartoons, ’20s, ’30s and ’40s. Merry Melodies, Harmon and Isling; as a matter of fact the Repo Man [in Repo ads] is a direct rip-off — the eyes, mouth, white gloves. I love that stuff. I appreciate the new stuff, but it kinda gets out of my realm of understanding. I’ve also designed a lot of tattoos for people, I design a lot of my own.” He shows his newest tattoo, a black-ink cartoon worm with spilling guts and bug-eyes. Clayton adds that underground comic artist R. Crumb is a huge influence on his work.

“I like doing covers for albums that have a general theme and they want something that’ll connect with the title," Clayton continues. "Especially when I sit with whoever it is and we bounce off ideas, kinda out-sicken each other … I like sick characters, physically sick-looking … not over-the-top gore. I’ve done a lot of that, people ask for it. I think the one picture I’ve drawn that’s been used the most was the first thing I did for G.G. Allin. He had a microphone stuck up his butt and he was getting ready to eat into a giant pile of shit. That one’s been used a lot, it’s still being used to this day … after he died it really got into circulation. I gave him the original, but I have the right to reproduce it if I want to. I’ve seen a lot of kids with it on the back of their jackets,” Clayton says.

For ideas, Clayton says, “I watch a lot of horror movies, a lot of wrestling, the exact same sources we get our songs from: cartoons, horror movies, wrestling, Nick at Nite. I watch that continuously. The TV never gets cut off in our house.”

It seems that not many women seem to do graphic design, at least in Charlotte. Clayton remembers that “back at the start of the American hardcore movement, there was a woman named Shawn Carrey, she was great. She was a real influence on a lot of the stuff I’ve done. She did a lot of band logos and record covers that are deemed classics, like the Circle Jerks’ little skanker guy.”

Reactions to Clayton’s work vary. “It’s definitely geared to a certain audience. It’s hand-in-hand with what I do musically; it’s definitely aimed at that crowd. I just don’t do anything slick and high-tech enough to appeal to a mass audience. It’s real underground.” Like Antiseen, though, it’s safe to say that Clayton’s art is legendary.

The next time you’re out at a club, take the flyer that’s offered to you. Look at it closely. The same goes for those ads, stickers and t-shirts. It’s among the best art in Charlotte, and you don’t have to be an art snob to appreciate it.

Tangents Fiction, September 2015 Issue

Hunky Dory

by Cindy Sites-Wooley

Only candles on the coffee table and red Christmas lights along the walls lit the living room. Jordy had connected his iPod to the stereo and put on a vintage 4AD playlist for Petra. He always knew what helped.

Nick’s old roommate Steve was sloshed. He’d been drunk the last time Petra saw him, and all the other times that she could remember with the possible exception of the funeral. Everybody worried about Steve as much as they laughed at his antics. Usually he was a happy drunk who wanted everyone to join him in the bottom of a bottle, as long as they brought their own. Not this time.

“Forty isn’t the new thirty! No, forty is the new forty, you fuckers! Why can’t we get older without candy-coating it?”

Jordy rolled his eyes. “Steve, please stop shouting in my ear.”

Steve reached from his armchair to the couch, slung an arm around Jordy, and almost fell. Jordy’s wine glass narrowly avoided collision.

“Sorry, Jordy. I’m fucked up. Forty-one’s too young to die but it ain’t young. I’m sick of everybody acting like we’re not middle-aged. It’s just advertising. Like the fucking boner pill. What if I don’t want to fuck anymore when I’m sixty? Leave our dicks alone. I’ll have liver problems anyway.” He took another swig and looked at Petra. “I’m so sorry. Nick was my brother. I feel it right here.” Steve slapped his chest.

Petra tried on a facial expression, but it didn’t work. She concentrated on Jordy’s comforting warmth beside her. Good old Jordy, her puzzle piece. Her torso hadn’t stopped feeling hollow yet. She’d like to fill it with vodka, but alcohol gave her migraines and heartburn now. Steve was uncomfortably right about getting older.

Eddie sat on the love seat with his new boyfriend whose name Petra didn’t know. The boyfriend couldn’t have looked more ready to leave.

Angular little Winston watched the floor from his armchair. She’d rarely spoken to him without Nick around but inviting him had seemed like the right thing to do. Petra smelled pot smoke on him as thick as wool.

Sitting on Petra’s other side was Jane, her other best friend. “I’m so sorry, girl,” Jane said for the third time.

“I’m okay.” But what else could she say?

Petra and Nick met in tenth grade after Jane noticed Petra mooning over this quiet new boy who wore a black leather motorcycle jacket and cherry red Dr. Martens. She’d never seen anyone wear boots like that in person. He sketched skulls and punk band names on his book covers.

“You remember when you made me talk to Nick that first time?”

“How could I forget?” Jane started to smile. “I thought you could use a little push.”

“More like a shove. And you didn’t even know him.”

“You know Star Trek formed my life philosophy. ‘To boldly go where no one has gone before’ is the way to live. You needed to try or I’d never have heard the end of it.”

Petra really smiled for the first time in days. “One day when we were fifteen, this hussy dragged me to talk to a new guy I’d been crushing on for weeks,” she told the others. “I wanted to bolt.”

“But I had a hold on her so she wasn’t going anywhere without me.”

“After we introduced ourselves, you bailed with some lie about needing to be across campus.”

Jane laughed. “I got you talking to him. But damn, you guys took a long time to get it together.”

“He still had a girlfriend at West Charlotte. They fought a lot, so he bitched about her to me. I turned into a high school movie stereotype: the girl pining for her best guy friend. By the time they broke up I was dating somebody. We went to different colleges but I met him again at one of Jordy’s parties.”

Jordy pointed at Petra with his glass. “Oh right, I tried to introduce you.”

Petra chuckled. “Yeah. You both get credit. Nick and I wouldn’t have known each other without Jane but we wouldn’t have reunited without Jordy.”

Everybody went quiet. Maybe, like Petra, they were pondering the things that would be different if a friend didn’t make you be bold, or if you skipped a party. Maybe Nick would be alive if she hadn’t met him, but she wouldn’t have known the difference. Her smile drifted.

“Chaos theory,” Eddie said. “I mean it’s a grossly oversimplified example, like the butterfly effect. You’ve heard of that, right?”

Steve groaned. “You were talking about it last time. There was that movie, too.”

Eddie cut his eyes at Steve with a little tilt of his head. “Okay, queen, no need to be that way.”

“I’m just giving you shit, Eddie.” Steve leaned back in his seat. “Go ahead and talk. I’m drunk, don’t listen to me.”

“That’s always the answer, isn’t it. Get drunk and talk shit and none of it means anything. Aren’t we all ready to move past that?”

Steve lifted his head like a giant surprised otter.

“Guys, why fight now, of all times?” Jordy said.

Eddie sulked. Steve dropped back in his seat.

“Whatever you want,” Eddie said finally.

“Do you need to talk about things, Eddie?” Jane asked, ever the therapist. “I’m not saying to fight it out, but it’s bad to keep shit bottled up.”

“Who’s fighting what out?” Steve now looked more like a confused bear than a startled otter.

“We aren’t going to fight at the wake for our dead friend in my house,” Jordy said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m a drama queen, not a fighter. All I want is to be taken seriously.”

“Who’s not taking you seriously?” Steve asked. “Eddie, I swear I meant nothing by it. Don’t you know I only give people shit if I like them?”

Petra saw Eddie’s point. People generally regarded him as a flaky flamer who peppered his hilariously rambling monologues with impersonations of obscure ex-celebrities and bursts of song. It was like he had a pop culture-fixated case of ADHD. She wondered how many people never saw his intelligence, and it reminded Petra of the way people had treated her when they could only see how she dressed. Everybody here should understand.

“Just forget it,” Eddie said.

Petra looked around as if she might find a new topic. Everybody was studying their drinks or the floor.

“Y’know, not to be a downer, but I think this is what it’s going to be like for our generation from here on out,” Steve said.

“What, arguing at wakes?” Jordy asked.

Steve waved his hand. “Burying people too soon. Things have changed. We aren’t the kids now and it hurts, but that’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, thanks for the Hallmark card, Steve. I’ll throw it in the trash with the others,” Petra said.

“I’m sorry, Petra. I say so much depressing shit. Why do you people keep me around?”

“Normally you’re very entertaining,” Jordy said. “We’ve just never seen you under these circumstances.”

With each sip of red wine Eddie grew increasingly morose. “Really, he’s right. I should put my name on the list for the first mission to Mars, take the first flight off this fucking rock for good.” He took another drink and turned to his boyfriend. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re my plus one. Maybe Nick will meet us there. Maybe it’s not another plane where spirits go, but another planet. ‘Is there Life on Maaahaaahaaaarrrs?’” he sang. “Oh, Jordy, do you have Hunky Dory?”

Eddie’s boyfriend gave Eddie a sidelong, brow-furrowed glance. Petra imagined that it was too early in a relationship to be plunging into the deep end this way. This guy should learn to swim fast if he wanted to be with Eddie. She loved Eddie, but he had chased off dozens of guys through sheer weirdness and breathtaking mood swings. Petra still wasn’t sure of Eddie’s boyfriend’s name, but she didn’t expect him to be around long enough to have need of learning it.

Jordy stood. “Of course I have Hunky Dory.” He looked at Petra. “Is that okay with you?”

“I’d never deny the people their Bowie.”

“I hope it’s not mp3, girl,” Eddie said.

“What kind of Bowie fan do you take me for? I’ve had it on vinyl since I was sixteen.” Jordy pulled the record from the crate and held it up.

Eddie grinned and raised his glass. “To Bowie.”

Most of the party raised their drinks while Jordy lifted the record high. Then he eased the vinyl out of its sleeve onto the turntable, and flipped his receiver to the record player channel. The needle landed softly on the vinyl with that wonderful hiss.

Eddie sighed. “At the risk of sounding like an asshole, nothing sounds warmer and fuller than vinyl.”

“I remember buying this at the Record Exchange when it was on Wendover,” Jordy said, taking his seat. “This one guy who worked there was so gorgeous and cool. I made sure to go to the cash register while he was up there so he would see me buy this album.” Jordy grinned. “He said I had excellent taste and asked if I had any Bowie videos. I didn’t, so he told me to come back the next Saturday evening and he’d give me a VHS of his Bowie video collection. I came back and he gave me a lot more than a tape. He wanted me to meet him after closing. It turned out he was twenty-one, his roommate was out of town, and he was into twinks, so we smoked a joint at his apartment and fucked while listening to ‘Heroes’. I can’t think of a better way to lose your virginity.”

“So romantic,” Petra cooed.

“Bowie’s an aphrodisiac. I put him on every mix tape for my crushes and it usually turned out well. Praise Bowie.”Jordy raised a gospel hand. “Do you think today’s lovesick adolescents create a playlist for the object of their affection instead of a mix tape?” Most of the room laughed.

“Some hipsters are into tapes, I heard,” Steve said. “I guess they like fast forwarding to the good songs and keeping a pencil handy in case they have to fix the tape. I get the vinyl revival, but not that. We like a lot of bad shit just because it’s old.”

Jane narrowed her eyes as if peering at something out of focus. “I wonder how many people our age had their sexual awakening to Bowie.” Several people chuckled. “I was all about Jareth from Labyrinth, because hey, that bulge.”

“You were thirteen when that came out!” Petra said.

“And?”

A subject like this never failed to pique Steve’s interest. “You had sex for the first time when you were thirteen?”

“No, I said sexual awakening. The first time you felt stirrings in the loin. Guess I saved myself for Bowie.”

Grinning, Jordy pointed to the framed Thin White Duke-era Bowie photo on the wall. Bowie looked like he was drawing back an invisible bowstring while holding a microphone at arm’s length. It was a stunning black and white image. “I have unabashed, enduring love for this man. I was ten when I saw the ‘China Girl’ video. He was beautiful anyway, but then! Then there was that bare-assed scene on the beach. I totally ignored the woman. That’s how I knew I was gay. But have you seen The Man Who Fell to Earth? Whew.” Jordy fanned himself. “Years ago there was this website called David Bowie’s Area. Yes, it was about his bulge and it was great. I miss it.”

“It wasn’t only Bowie for me,” Eddie said. “There was Billy Idol. ‘Flesh for Fantasy’ was so sexy. ‘Eyes Without a Face,’ too. Blonds really do it for me.” He winked at his boyfriend, whose hair was platinum. “Bowie’s the best, though.”

Jane nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. I wasn’t lucky enough to see ‘China Girl’ before they censored it, but that’s why the goddess made YouTube. That’s some fine Bowie ass.” She turned to Petra. “How about you?”

Petra’s cheeks flushed. She had hoped they’d take pity on the widow and not make her spill. “I never even told Nick.”

“Come on, we’ve said ours.” Jordy nudged her.

“Et tu, Jor-day?” Petra laughed nervously. “Really, you want to know?”

“Well, duh,” Jane drawled.

Looking down, Petra rubbed her hand around her glass of tea to collect the condensation. “Prince. ‘When Doves Cry’ was my first sighting of a man in a bathtub. The music just sounded like sex, and then he sang about her touching his trembling stomach. I felt kinda fluttery myself.”

Jane nodded sagely. “That and the crawling. I feel you, girl. Times like that, you know what Sheila E and Vanity saw in him.”

“And speaking of songs that make you perv out when you’re too young to understand, ‘Self Control’ by Laura Branigan was another pivotal song that year,” Petra said. Everybody but Winston fell out laughing.

“I’ll bet nobody has said that sentence in the history of the world,” Jordy said.

“Well, I know it’s cheesy when you look at the video now, but I was into that guy in the mask. I wanted him to take my self control.” She cringed against Jordy, who couldn’t stop giggling. “What a year, 1984.”

“You were just stewing in your hormones,” said Jane.

“I was totally at the mercy of MTV, waiting to be seduced.”

“And to think you didn’t want to tell us, your closest friends, any of this about yourself,” Steve said.

“We’ve all learned about you today, and we’ve learned about ourselves…” Jane intoned, voiceover style. Giggles overtook them all but Winston.

Steve took a swig of Maker’s Mark. “I remember getting my first boners to Buck Rogers because of Erin Gray, and Charlie’s Angels. Even Kate Jackson. People said she wasn’t the sexy one, but I dug her.” Petra always forgot that Steve was a little older than the rest of them. “That goes for me and the rest of the straight guys my age, probably.”

“Well, I’m sure a lot of this is lost on Adam,” Eddie said, grinning at his boyfriend. So that was his name.

“I’m not that young. I know who Charlie’s Angels are.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me your first crush,” Eddie said.

“You guys will laugh.”

Eddie rubbed Adam’s arm. “As your boyfriend I swear I won’t laugh at you.”

“Mm-hmm, I’ll take it out of your ass later if you do.”

Eddie leaned closer. “Promise?”

“Oh guys, I’d say get a room but I don’t want you getting ideas about what you can do in my house,” Jordy said.

Adam interlaced his fingers. “Okay. When I was ten, I had a thing for Trent Reznor because of the video for ‘Closer.’ No shirt, blindfold.” He raised his shoulders.

“Why would we laugh?” Jane asked. “I thought he was hot too.”

“Yeah, I can’t laugh at that, but I don’t know whether to be proud or horrified for robbing the cradle,” Eddie said. “I was twenty-one when that came out.”

“Be proud,” Jordy said. He gazed around the room. “What about you, Winston?”

Winston frowned and didn’t look up. “You people act like nobody died. I can’t believe you’re talking about who you first wanted to jack off to. You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Wait a minute.” Petra sat up. “Most of us knew Nick a hell of a lot longer than you did. You were just his fucking drug buddy. Where do you get off telling people how to mourn? For all I know you were there when he overdosed.” He winced. “Oh shit, were you?” Petra shot to her feet.

“No, no,” Winston stammered, “but he’d done a speedball before and he handled it. It wasn’t much, so he shouldn’t have OD’ed. I was working that night.”

Petra advanced on him. “Pot or acid, fine, whatever. If I’d known he ever mixed coke and smack I would’ve dumped his ass off with the cops myself.”

Winston cringed. “I know you’re mad, but I wasn’t … I didn’t …”

“I’m the one who found him already dead. You sat here judging us after I was nice enough to invite you even though we barely know you. You’re lucky you weren’t with him that night. Get the fuck out before I punch you. I never want to see you again.”

Winston slouched and looked at Jordy, who stood behind Petra.

“Don’t look at me. Petra’s right.”

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Winston scrambled for the door. Petra needed to walk away, so she followed wherever her legs took her. She ended up in the kitchen. On the picture-plastered refrigerator there was a photo from a party two years ago. She and Nick and their friends grinned and laughed back at her. Nick was the handsome, sweet guy she loved so happily back then, pre-coke and healthy. Petra was laughing so hard her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back, abandoned to the joy of the moment. Jordy stood mid-tackle with his arms around her waist. Next to Jordy, Jane was pulling a face. On the left Steve towered over Nick, stony-faced but making bunny ears behind his head. Eddie was crouching in front of Petra and Jordy, ironically striking the stereotypical elbow-to-knee, hand-to-chin catalogue model pose. Off to the left you could see Winston in the background, accidentally captured on camera.

That’s when Petra felt Jordy embrace her from behind, melting some of her tension. “You okay?”

Petra shrugged. “I will be.”

“I should really cut him out of that photo.”

“Give me the scissors and let me do it,” Petra said.

Sometimes, You Can Go Home Again

Sometimes, it appears, you can go home again

Everybody in Charlotte knows that most of its residents are transplants, which makes those of us who were born here sometimes feel like we’re in a special club. There’s a clubhouse and a secret handshake and everything.

A lot of natives grew up waiting to get out, but I wasn’t one of them. Occasionally I’d daydream of moving to DC, San Francisco, or even Prague when I was feeling that twenty-something wanderlust, but I was happy here. Tangents was here, at least for a few years after college, and as one of the founders I stuck with it to the end. All of my friends were still here through most of the ‘90s. Just about anything I wanted to do, I could mostly do here or within a day’s road trip. The roads weren’t too crowded yet and that appealed to my nerves. I thought I might only leave if I could go live in some exciting foreign country. My twenty-eighth birthday had already passed before I ever had to think seriously about moving.

In December 2001 my then-husband’s employer made him relocate to Raleigh. We had only been married for a month. At least we’d still be in North Carolina, I told myself. It might as well have been a different country. I made a few friends, but nothing could patch up the cracks growing in me. I’d never exactly been the most stable of individuals, but life became a Tilt-a-Whirl for me in Raleigh. Reading my old journal entries from those years still gives me a sinking stomach and a tight throat. My crumbling personal life made me miserable, but Raleigh itself was also hard for me to take because the rivalry between Charlotte and Raleigh isn’t just a myth. Sometimes when I told people there that I was from Charlotte, they’d smugly congratulate me on moving to their town. Even the small group of friends and friendly acquaintances I made were dismissive of my hometown, which kind of made me feel like we were different species.

For nearly seven years I talked myself into believing Thomas Wolfe was right: “you can’t go home again.” As desperately as I wanted to be back in Charlotte, I was convinced that I had burned all my bridges for reasons I won’t go into. My longing to move back to Charlotte grew almost physically painful after making a trip back here to see the Police play a show in November 2007, and I decided it was time for new bridges to be built. One of my friends used to say that anybody who moved out of Charlotte would inevitably be back if they didn’t break 88 miles per hour on the way out of town, and I’d laugh, never thinking it was going to apply to me. After that 2007 visit home, I wanted to be one of those prodigal friends she would tease for not managing to leave and stay gone.

When my ex and I split up in early 2008, I took some time to get my shit together and move back home. In those months I made many weekend trips to Charlotte that felt like parties, even if all I did was hang out with one friend. The date of my move seemed to be at the end of a treadmill lit with sparkles and fireworks. Returning to Raleigh was harder every Sunday afternoon, but when I finally moved back to Charlotte in June 2008 it was a high that lasted. Even now I remember to appreciate how much happier I am.

My move back here happened just in time for a big construction boom to stall out thanks to the economy, but already my old Charlotte had many unrecognizable intersections, new shopping centers, and bigger downtown buildings. My visits leading up to my moving day had prepared me for these changes, so living with them was just part of the excitement of being home. A little thing like a population boom wasn’t going to take away my elation at being back where I knew I belonged.

I believe in mistakes as long as you learn from them, and I consider my first marriage and living in Raleigh the two biggest ones I ever made, but I’ve never had a stronger education. It took all of that to make me understand myself and truly love Charlotte.

When I see all the cranes building more expensive apartments I find unappealing, and when I lament the demise of old beloved places, I remind myself of all the above. Progress can look like destruction, and it can kill the things that made people want to move here, but without it we’d still be a big small town of 430,000 people with fewer fun things to do, like 25 years ago. It’s not the new things that are bad, it’s the way they shove aside or just wreck all the existing good stuff to make room. See, something else I believe in besides making mistakes is balance. Along with the pile of bad things like hellish traffic, demolition, and cranes, there’s a pile of good things like Trader Joe’s, more live music, the Mad Monster Party, and more interesting restaurants to enjoy. I only need to learn how to make room for all the new people and builders, just as they need to respect what was here first.

— Cindy Sites-Wooley