Being a Flintstone

I'm spending a week in my hometown, Flint. During my layover in Detroit I struck up a conversation with a (so cute) businessman who was traveling to Flint for the first time.
"What is there to do in Flint?" He asked.
"Uhhhhhhhhh……." I drew a blank. There is literally nothing to do in Flint. Nothing.
No-thing.
So I suggested the one novelty, - that he go to Halo Burger (our local fast food joint) and get a Boston Cooler.
He's from Boston, and apparently, Boston Coolers are not.
I'm afraid he is going to be very bored here.
I once loved living here because I never knew there was anything better. I bowled on a league, and actually won trophies. I lived to watch Roseanne on Tuesday nights because it was a sitcom with a family so much like my own. . I wanted to live in a doublewide because they all seemed to have a "garden tub"- very classy. And I thought every family planned family vacations around "strike year." Oh, we were blue-collar through and through.
But when I went off to college, I met an entirely new breed of people. The women didn’t wear tons of giant jewelry, aqua net hair spray, or get square-tip manicures on their pudgy fingers. Men didn't use excessive hair gel, gold chains, or have tiny moustaches. No one referred to cops as "pigs", or have 4 children by 5 different daddies. These new people had hobbies like book clubs, or playing music instead of mowing the lawn or riding four-wheelers. I felt so comfortable with these people and embraced their new lifestyle.
And since then I guess I've been a bit of a Flint Snob. I confess, I 've stubbornly refused to do the things I once found so enjoyable. I wanted to be more refined, like I was educated and had left those others behind.
So when I returned this week, I was surprised that I was enjoying Flint.I think it's the simplicity of things. Unlike Chapel Hill, the houses are quaint, and moderately priced. Groceries don't require half of your salary. For fun, people spend time with their family and they actually go out in their yards and chat with their neighbors. It's a slower pace for life, and it's nice.
I went to a Coney Island and had a real Coney dog. I drank Vernors. I helped my dad pick some garden vegetables. I went to a restaurant, ordered a steak, and threw my peanut shells on the floor. I watched, My Name is Earl. And tonight we have the fans blowing and the windows are open so we can smell the rain. I've been embracing my inner- Flintstone.
Maybe this week I'll go to Ziggies and stand in the parking lot licking my cone super fast so it won't drip on my hands. Or maybe I'll go to Southland lanes and throw gutters balls until my arm hurts. Or, there's always US23 Drive-in.
I'm starting to see a certain charm to Flint. Maybe I'll learn to love it again.