While its political power remains centered in Statesville, the county seat, Iredell's economy is driven largely by Mooresville, the suburban boomtown at the southern end of the county, where Lowe's and other corporate heavyweights generate tax dollars and population growth.

Statesville's population tends to consider its fair city to be the center of the universe. In Mooresville, however, folks tend to believe the earth tilts decidedly toward Charlotte. That dynamic can feed a relative disinterest among Mooresvillians in the workings of Iredell County's government. Meanwhile, Mooresville's economic clout and traitorous allegiance to Queen Charlotte can breed resentment among the old-liners up Statesville way.

All of which provides some valuable context for Iredell County Commission Chairman Stephen Johnson's early and emphatic opposition to a proposed partnership in a Charlotte-to-Mooresville commuter and freight rail project.

"... a room of idiots get together and decide that something is coherent," Johnson chided last week, referring to proponents of the Red Line Regional Rail project. "Since everybody in the room thinks it's coherent, then it's true." Apparently the room wasn't completely full of idiots. The Iredell County Commission was notably absent from the mid-December presentation of the proposal in Mooresville.

Here's something Talkers know to be true. When one person in a room full of smart people thinks he's the only one with the answers, it might be time to rethink just who the idiot really is.

Getting the Lowe's down

For the Shiny Shoes in Lowe's corporate boardroom, Christmas couldn't have come early enough this year.

The anticipation, though, had little to do with holiday shoppers or even dancing sugar plums.

For the Mooresville-based home improvement giant, Christmas 2011 came wrapped in a big red bow as a distraction from Lowe's All-American Muslim mess. But not before the company was put in the awkward position last week of rejecting a request — in the form of a 200,000-signature petition presented by Mecklenburg Ministries — to reinstate Lowe's advertising on the All-American Muslim television show on The Learning Channel.

A Lowe's spokesperson carefully explained last week that it wasn't pressure from an evangelical group in Florida that led the company to pull its ads from the show, but rather the shrill exchange on social media among those who supported and those who opposed the company's choice to advertise on a program that depicts the ordinary lives of Muslims in the U.S.

What the spokeswoman really was saying was that Lowe's did what it did because the company's spin masters had lost control of the proverbial message. Facebookers, bloggers and other social media types were driving the conversation about Lowe's — an exchange that couldn't be quieted with traditional, well-placed talking points hand delivered to key editors and network executives.

But while Lowe's took its lumps this month, the controversy will soon be as forgotten as wadded-up Christmas wrapping paper. That's because the only thing shorter than social media's collective fuse, is its attention span.