Silly me. Here I was, thinking I lived in a pretty decent place, a city with more culture, diversity and attitude than any other in North Carolina.

I didn't know I was actually residing in the armpit -- actually, more like an unprintable body orifice -- of the state.

That, anyway, was the implicit pronouncement of the Charlotte Observer in a recent front-page story on Durham.

As much as it hurts, I'm inclined to take their word for Durham's shortcomings, because if anyone knows a second-rate city, it would be the good people of Charlotte.

Unlike a lot of Tar Heels who despise Charlotte on principle because of its perceived -- perceived, my eye, its undeniable -- arrogance, my antipathy toward the Queen City developed over a period of years. Growing up in Rockingham in the early 1970s, we considered Charlotte to be New York, Paris and Los Angeles wrapped up in one. At the time, a big night for my buddies and me was driving the 60 or so miles to Charlotte, where you could find a business that stayed open -- get this -- 24 hours. In a row! So what if it was only a Krispy Kreme.

Alas, something happened to Charlotte over the years, and it went from being a welcoming, big little city proud to be the crown jewel of the state to a would-be kingdom unto itself.

Were the city a person, it could be accused of "puttin' on airs," like that cousin of yours who went to New York for a week but came back speaking with an accent so proper you'd have thought he'd been raised having tea and crumpets with Queen Elizabeth.

I'm guessing the change came about when all those banks started relocating their headquarters to the Queen City and it had the good fortune (ha ha) to snare professional football and basketball teams. What a blessing, eh?

Charlotte is beset by many of the problems the paper attributed to Durham, and its crime rate is consistently higher. Yet, a boosterish newspaper article noted several years ago that Charlotte's problem is not crime, but -- dig this -- a conscientious police department. "Charlotte is so good about investigating and reporting crime, it may just seem more dangerous." Who wrote that? The Chamber of Commerce?

The "volatility" the paper ascribed to Durham is a good thing. Durham is a city that takes pride in its raw politics, and a lot of people would have been happy to say so.

I mean, the people interviewed for the story were a state representative, a City Council member and a former City Council member who said, "General public morale is low." That former council member was Floyd McKissick, who did not exactly bathe the city in glory during his tenure in public office.

Had the newspaper talked to my neighbors, people in Charlotte would have learned that the volatility means only that the city embraces, nay, revels in dissent.

It also acts as a repellent to people from Charlotte who might be seeking to relocate.

The story noted that Durham might consider changing its moniker to "The City That Can't Catch a Break." Splendid idea, because there's another North Carolina city more deserving of being called "the Bull City."