Geezer

There are 386 posts filed in Geezer (this is page 35 of 39).

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Arriving at Carowinds

As much as I like roller coasters, and for all the fun I had working at Carowinds in 1985, you would think I would’ve found time to make the drive from Raleigh to Charlotte for a weekend of fun at the park. For whatever reason, though, I’d never done it. My last visit was in 1994, two years after I moved to Raleigh. Though it went largely unfulfilled, my love for coasters lived on. Now that I’ve got a wife and kids who are old enough to appreciate it I figured it was a good time to make the pilgrimage.

We hit the road a little around 6:45 this morning for the three-hour drive to the park. Traffic was light and the ride was easy. We got there right on time, rolling into the Carowinds lot minutes after the park opened at 10. After some thorough applications of sunscreen we headed for the South Gate, with the new Intimidator ride looming over us.

Carowinds now searches bags and runs its visitors through metal detectors. This was a sign of the times but quite effortless. We handed the attendant our preprinted tickets and made it through the gate with no problems.
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Raleigh Speedway

Raleigh Speedway in 1965

Did you know Raleigh once had its own NASCAR track? It’s true, though you’d never know it today. The site is now a quiet industrial park that sits next to an equally quiet neighborhood north of the Raleigh Beltline. Back in the 1950s, though, the air was filled with smoke and the sound of revving engines at this track once located a mile outside the city limits.

Raleigh Speedway opened in 1952 as the Southland Speedway (or the Dixie Speedway), when it hosted an IndyCar event. It went on to host major NASCAR events, including Grand National events every Fourth of July. Raleigh Speedway was notable in that it was the first track NASCAR sanctioned for night races.
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Sensitive ears

As I blogged about before, I used to be a part-time recording engineer. It was a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that I learned some cool things about music production. The curse is that now I can’t help but notice when a song is mixed wrong. Maybe a microphone is too hot, or a vocal is too loud, but I notice and it makes me cringe.

As a photographer I know that little things can make a big difference in a photograph. The same applies to music. Once I learned what to listen for I can’t help but notice the mistakes.

Life should be measured in fun

As I was getting things done around the house today during this gorgeous spring day, I found myself thinking about my late friend, Gerry. Nearly all of my memories of him are of parties. It got me thinking: the moments that will stand out when I’m 88 years old aren’t the ones made in my cubicle at work, they’ll be of parties, of vacations, and of time spent with family and friends. The good times. And when you think about it, those times are typically a small percentage of our lives.

It made me consider how much of one’s life is spent on things that just don’t matter. Far too much! I don’t think I’ll pass up future chances to take vacations, or turn down a party invitation, or forgo spending quality time with my family and friends. Life is just too short.

Rockford closes

One of Raleigh’s more interesting restaurants closed abruptly this week: The Rockford on Glenwood, after a 15 year run. Long before Glenwood South became full of cheesy bars, Rockford was serving great sandwiches and affordable beer.

We ate there on many occasions and frequently filled half of their dining room with our crowd. The food was always great, nicely priced, and the beer selection branched beyond the Anheuser-Bush offerings (unlike most of Glenwood South). Like others on the web have written, Rockford had a secret hideout feel to it, with only a nondescript staircase visible from the street. Some have pointed to that as its Achilles Heel but I see it as part of the charm. Judging by the crowd that seemed always present, Rockford didn’t hurt from word-of-mouth business.
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Sinking in

I’ve reached that point now, the one where the reality is beginning to sink in that the Gerry that I knew is gone. Up until now I’ve put up a good front and kept up with the gallows humor but the truth I’ve known all along but refused to acknowledge is finally being accepted. Gerry was gone the second that truck smashed into his car and he isn’t coming back.

Some folks at the office are aware of my loss and many have stopped by my desk to inquire about him. I’ve been giving somber replies but have usually thrown in something positive to lessen the stark reality. I used to think it was for their benefit but it was really for mine. No use pretending anymore.

My manager wanted to talk with me today after hearing the talk in the office and so I told him the whole story. Today was the first time my show of strength failed me, that I could no longer hide the pain. Describing to my boss how Gerry had chance to dodge the truck barreling down on him, I lost my composure and began to cry.
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Where I’ve worked: U.S. Navy: Signing up

The Navy: it’s not just a job, it’s an adventure, as the advertising went. In truth it’s a job and so much more. How does one fit the “so much more” into a post about jobs? How does one choose to take on such an adventure?

It was the fall of 1987. I was a recent high school graduate working part-time at the local hardware store. Most of my friends went off to college, beginning adventures of their own. The thought of college didn’t excite me – the thought of becoming a future cube dweller didn’t excite me – and I put zero effort into applying. Still, I knew I was missing out on something and I wondered where I would find my adventure. I felt very alone at that point in my life.

My parents prodded me to enroll at the local community college but I wasn’t thrilled at that prospect, either. They then suggested the military, and without many other adventurous opportunities it began to sound appealing. My brother Allen had joined the Army earlier and seemed to be liking it. Why not look at the Navy?
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The ghosts of Children’s House

I’ve been checking the webserver logfiles here on MT.Net and note that a number of Google searches have brought people here looking for information on the Children’s House of Raleigh (CHR). Every time I discover someone else searching for that now-defunct school it makes me sad. Among other kids, our daughter got a great education at CHR. I felt a real kinship with the staff and other parents. Then the wheels came off. I’m not really sure what happened, but for whatever reason it just didn’t work out.

It’s tough to see something you poured love and work into come to an inglorious end.

The other end of larceny

My recent Hechinger post brought to mind one other tale worth sharing, one I didn’t know how to weave into the rest of my narrative.

One of the part-tome guys who worked at the store was much like me: a clean-cut middle class young man. He was the son of an IBMer and probably never wanted for much growing up. He was pretty friendly and though he worked in a different department we would always say hi to each other.

Then one night my image of him changed completely. We were at a party thrown by one of our coworkers. I took him up on his offer to check out the stereo in his red Mustang. Seeing how impressed I was, he offered to get me one just like it for $50.

What, I said? He then casually explained that he knew some people who could get him “hot” stereos and radar detectors and could hook me up if I wanted.
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Where I’ve worked: Hechinger

My Hechinger Badge

After my shoddy treatment at Dart Drug and my detours at the W. Bell and the computer store, I circled back to the Sugarland Run shopping plaza and applied to the hardware store where we always shopped: Hechinger, also known as the “World’s Most Unusual Lumber Yard.” Boy, was I glad I did!

It was May 1987: one month away from my high school graduation. I walked into the store, inquired about a job, and was walked back to the employee lounge in the back to fill out the application. I was then shown into the office of the store manager. The manager was a portly man with impeccable manners and a friendly, gentle, fatherly manner. He sat me down and asked a few general questions, most not directly related to hardware, from what I recall. It was more about my longer-term goals, just feeling me out. I seem to recall I set my sights high at that meeting. I was feeling pretty confident.

I can still recall the thrill I felt when he told me I was hired. I’d be making about $5 an hour – a nice jump from my Dart Drug days – and I would be assigned to the hardware department. I thanked him and walked out. I couldn’t wait to get to work!
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