Columbia offers unique culture
From world-renowned art to outdoor activity, city offers plenty to do
By: Paul Bowers - Pleading the first
Posted: 9/22/08
It hit me this weekend: I love Columbia.
I had some longtime friends visiting from out of town, and in the process of showing them the city, I realized I had fallen for the place.
Saturday morning, we saw a free exhibit at the Columbia Museum of Art by world-class glass blower Dave Chihuly. In the afternoon, we slogged through the Marine Corps Mud Run at Fort Jackson.
We enjoyed a fine dinner at Grilled Teriyaki. I took my friends downtown and showed off Blue Sky's public works, including the famous tunnel painting on the side of the bank. We strolled through the Greek Festival, which was a much bigger deal than I had expected.
My point in explaining all this is to demonstrate how much this town has to offer. We in the South have a tendency toward self-denigration, bowing to the apparent cultural superiority of New York or Los Angeles. But what we have here is an enticing smorgasbord.
Where else can you ponder great art in the morning and submerse yourself in clay sludge a couple of hours later? What other city has a Strom Thurmond statue across the street from an independent film theatre?
I am reminded of an affable hippie I met in the Irish city of Galway this summer. Upon learning that I was from the South, he launched into the worst impression of a Southern drawl I've ever heard. I laughingly told him I was glad I didn't sound like that, but he suddenly turned serious as he told me, "You don't need to be ashamed of that, man. It's where you're from."
My budding love affair with Columbia goes beyond the arts and attractions. More important than all those things, I think, is the community I've found. Wherever we went on Saturday, we saw people I knew.
In the past year or so, I've devised an alternate definition of home: Home is the place where you can always find someone who'll shake your hand and know your name.
In that sense, my childhood hometown is still my home, but so is this.
Sometimes we spend so much time pining for an idealized home turf (which may or may not really exist) that we close our eyes to the richness of the soil in which we're planted. We forget that we were made to adapt.
I plan to keep exploring this city, as I am certain there are a thousand things I've not yet seen. I pledge to be a docent for all the stories and oddities I pick up. I will mingle with every group that will allow me, and I will treasure the relationships I've formed. And when it's time to move on, I will fall in love with the next town, too.
So go ahead: Take a bike ride at Riverfront Park. See a punk show at New Brookland Tavern. Stage a protest at the State House. This is our city. Let's not waste it.