Signs of Life in Chapel Hill

You know, I don't just spend my time maniacally thinking about, organizing, and proselytizing for my music collection. Yes, I've spent the last two weeks doing that. True. But I also pay too much attention to sports (I'm versatile in my worthlessness), and it looks like my beloved North Carolina Tar Heels (beloved for no real reason, but no less beloved for it) have more potential this year than was widely believed. They lost to Illinois last week, 68-64, in a rematch of last year's title game, but then beat Kentucky on the road over the weekend. (I'm talking about basketball here, folks.) So at 4-1, there are signs of hope for the Heels.

(It's not entirely true that there's no reason. I think there was an aesthetic pleasure that I found in both the team's look and style of play when I was about 10 years old. Given that the look was powder blue and the style of play was a clock-grinding, grown-up version of "keep away," I'm not sure what that says about my aesthetic sensibility at 10. Rather, I have some ideas, but I'm choosing to ignore them. I like to think I've grown less color-blind and less stingy over the years. But anyway, the initial affection for the team stuck, and grew.

I also had daydreams when younger of living in Chapel Hill, which I thought would be leafy and collegiate in all kinds of satisfying ways. But I have fantasies of living in many leafy and/or collegiate places -- a subject that will be explored at much greater length, I imagine, as we progress here. My god, you lucky people.)