Watching one of the Weather Channel's abysmal "It Could Happen Tomorrow" scare-a-thons -- in which our meterological friends with too much time on their hands imagine, say, tornados destroying Dallas or tsunamis swamping the Big Apple, with lousy CGI to go with it -- I found myself wondering: What would happen if a flying saucer with the prototypical "little green men" landed in the Triangle?
As with so many things around here, it really depends just where our little E.T.'s chose to perch. Caution: equal-opportunity satire ahead!
If they landed in Watts-Hillandale: As the UFO hovers over the NC School of Science & Mathematics, the bright lights convince the neighborhood this is just a ploy to install brighter lights over the new NCSSM soccer field than the recent neighborhood-school compromise permitted. Angry calls to NCSSM and UNC leaders ensue; their confused denials only lead neighborhood leaders to believe this was the school's real plan all along.
In Brightleaf Square: Thoughtlessly, the little green men land their spacecraft in the parking lot to the south of Main, not the lot to the North. Believing their alien antennae were bought at Morgan Imports (part of the Peabody Place development with which Brightleaf has feuded over parking since its opening), Brightleaf management refuse to allow the spacecraft to leave until they pay for parking or get their ticket validated.
In Duke Park: As the UFO hovers over the traffic circle at Markham and Glendale, eager neighbors make plans on the listserv to welcome the new neighbors, and a group of residents surrounds the circle and sings "We Are The World" a capella. Unfortunately, the UFO crushes the roundabout's peace-sign art installation upon landing, creating an uproar. An anonymous resident-artist erects in Duke Park a concrete statue of the traffic circle chained on three sides as a political statement, promising to remove it only after 50 residents email the City Council to demand that the traffic circle be set free.
In downtown Durham: The City of Durham and its downtown boosters are utterly confused about what to do. The City puts out a press release denying that there is any alien presence in the city; confronted by the evidence of a UFO perched on top of the SunTrust building, City Manager Baker recants, claiming a misunderstanding of state and federal rules over what qualifies as an alient presence. Durham's Convention and Visitor's Bureau is similarly confused. First, the CVB puts out a release praising the landing as yet another sign of Durham's diversity. Soon, however, the Raleigh paper and TV stations start running stories on how the presence of little green men is a sign of how unsafe Durham is. In response, the CVB issues an analysis of UFO sightings in other US cities, citing data from similar areas such as Roswell, NM and Rachel, NV to claim that Durham's alien presence is "comparable" to other municipalities of its size. For its part, Downtown Durham, Inc. secretly negotiates with the little green men to use their ray-guns to raze the "We Want Oprah" building once and for all.
In Trinity Park: When the UFO lands at the corner of Watts and Lamond and announces that they'd like to build a spaceport on the site, several neighbors angrily write to the neighborhood listserv, complaining that the proposed spaceport is in clear violation of the Unified Development Ordinance and that they will not support a variance to allow it to be built. Other neighbors respond to stand up for the space aliens, claiming the spaceport is no taller than the nearby Chesterfield building, anyway. Heated arguments ensue. Confused and having never heard of zoning laws, the little green men read the UDO and decide to find a different landing spot, but not before investing some of their Galactibux in a tear-down, in-fill development of upscale townhomes in the northern part of the neighborhood. Still more heated arguments ensue. Tired of it all, they finally sign off the listserv and decide to find a planet that's a little quieter.
In Old West Durham: John Schelp meets with the little green men and promises to support their decision to land in his neighborhood, but only if they will agree to binding conditions that include, among others, a promise they'll use their ray-guns to guard Ninth Street against national chain stores.
On Duke's West Campus: Duke undergrads greet the alien presence with enthusiasm, throwing an impromptu kegger on the Quad. As with all big Duke celebrations, the students build a bonfire (good idea) which unfortunately engulfs the UFO in flames (bad idea). Intergalactic war ensues and, a century later, the area from Fayetteville to South Boston, VA is known as "Grand Canyon East."
At UNC: The UFO lands on campus on fall Friday night; unfortunately, no one sees them because everybody has gone to the Dean Dome for a basketball game. Undaunted, they return the next day and land at Kenan Memorial Stadium; unfortunately again, no one sees them because nobody ever bothers to go to a UNC football game.
In Cary: The spacecraft lands in downtown Cary and is instantly cited for a zoning violation because it is not beige. Town fathers also fret on what the presence of aliens will do to their ranking in Money Magazine's list of "Top 10 Cities to Never Be Visited By Space Aliens."
In Carrboro: The residents of Carrboro take to their visitors immediately and wholeheartedly, inviting them to settle in to a co-housing development and join the food co-op. When military forces arrive to seize the UFO and the little green men, Carrboro residents are outraged, and the local government passes an ordinance refusing to assist with the detainment of any alien, illegal or interplanetary. The mayor also issues a statement, co-signed by the mayors of Berkeley CA, Madison WI, and Cambridge MA, calling for equal rights for all mankind, even the non-mankind type.
In Raleigh: The UFO lands on Hillsborough Street, instantly becoming a roundabout. Philip Isley is outraged and complains that roundabouts are a waste of taxpayers' money. When other city leaders point out that no taxpayer money was spent on this, the John Locke Foundation issues a report complaining that the presence of UFOs on city streets just serve to delay emergency vehicles' response times. And are a waste of taxpayer money. Confused, the UFO flies off to the RBC Center parking lot, prompting Mayor Meeker to lament that the UFO really should be located in the heart of downtown near the convention center and should never have been allowed to locate all the way far out on Wade Avenue.
In Clayton: The UFO never lands, per se; it is shot out of the sky by a hail of shotgun fire from locals who like the town (and America) the way it is, thank you very much. Several of the patriot-vigilantes express surprise that the shotgun blasts work, since they never seem to have much effect on passing blimps and airplanes when they shoot at those.
Hah! Welcome to the Durham blogosphere, Kevin.
I have to say, though, i think it more likely that we Duke Parkers would have a healing ceremony with our alien visitors, forgiving them for accidentally trashing our peace sign.
Only if that didn't achieve the desired results would we resort to holding a statue hostage.
Posted by: Barry | March 08, 2007 at 06:09 PM
Thanks for the welcome, Barry. :) Your read of the Duke Park zeitgeist is more accurate than mine and I stand corrected. FWIW, when we moved here the wife and I almost ended up buying a place about three houses down from the traffic circle and I have to say I miss the view of the ever-changing installations that we would have had there.
Posted by: Bull City Rising | March 11, 2007 at 11:27 AM