I wouldn't be surprised if most of the people that I've met during my four years here think that I'm from Philadelphia. It's an easy mistake: one that is fueled much more by my love of convenience than by others' inability to retain accurate information.
It started during my first year at the University, when everyone's follow-up to the ever-popular, "What's your name?" seemed to be either "Where do you live?" or "Where are you from?" My go-to answer became, "I'm from Philly" - mostly because people didn't require an explanation as to where exactly Philly was. Cherry Hill, on the other hand, prompted more than a few confused faces, all seeming to posit, "What part of Virginia is that in?"
No part, actually.
Fast forward seven semesters and little has changed. The answer, "I'm from Cherry Hill, New Jersey," only seems to have significance to the handful of Cavaliers that hail from the Tri-state Area (that is, New Jersey, Pennsylvania or Delaware). And even then, the significance typically lies in how many minutes we can spend talking about the Cherry Hill Mall - which a man at Christian's once informed me that "even people in India know about."
For the overwhelming majority of people I've met on Grounds, Cherry Hill is a foreign territory. It's only a 20-minute drive from Philadelphia, and it is a reasonably sized suburb in southern New Jersey, but few people know that.
So, technically speaking, I am a Jersey girl. I've lived in the same New Jersey town, in the same house, since I was two years old. Honestly, though, I can't say I completely like what Jersey Girl implies - thanks in large part to the ever-fabulous cast of MTV's "Jersey Shore."
For now, "Philly" works. It's not the best answer I can give people, but for the purposes of small talk, it's close enough.
Moreover, I've had ties to Philly all of my life. I was born there. My dad was born there. Both he and my mom work there. Growing up, it was always a great place for day trips or weekend stays.
As long as I continue to find myself surrounded by Virginians, I see no reason to stop claiming it. If nothing else, Philly has always been good for its restaurants, history and unique sense of Northern... "hospitality." And during the eight or nine months I spend in Charlottesville each year, I find myself constantly missing Philly radio stations - there are few things better.
A few times a week, I find myself going to the websites of my three favorite stations: Power 99, Wired 96.5, and 100.3 The Beat. I spend anywhere from half an hour to an hour singing, dancing and laughing along to the morning shows on each station.
The DJs on these Philly radio stations are blunt, the news is timely and above all else, the music is fresh. On any given day, I can hear a mix of local artists and international superstars. I can hear my favorite songs in R&B and hip-hop, and I can hear a few I haven't heard before.
In Charlottesville, the stations fall short of the mark - at least they do for me. As someone who has never been too interested in country music or soft rock, I just can't seem to find a station that I love - one that seeks out new music and celebrates a variety of artists. What I find instead are a few stations that play older music that at one point was popular or catchy, but now has little or no relevance. Most of the songs I haven't heard in years. Many, I'd be perfectly fine with never hearing again.
The lack of diverse, up-to-date music can be frustrating sometimes. Many times I have been driving around Charlottesville and, unable to find a station I like, resolve to turn down the audio entirely. Instead, I sing to myself, stream music from my BlackBerry or simply drive along in silence. During times like those, more than others, I almost instinctively begin thinking back to my beloved "hometown" of Philadelphia, my musical haven. And I know in my heart, that despite what beauty and opportunity exists elsewhere, there is just nothing like it.
Stephanie's column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at s.waties@cavalierdaily.com.
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