Geezer

There are 380 posts filed in Geezer (this is page 34 of 38).

Graffiti gets attention

I took a look around Raleigh’s I-440 Beltline yesterday and was happy to see the graffiti I complained about is finally getting cleaned up. There were a few spots that remained, like the overhead sign at the Crabtree exit and the spots on the noise wall near the Six Forks Rd exit, but most of the egregious stuff has been painted over. Also, DOT is painting over it with brick-colored paint, rather than the gray stuff that was used in other cleanups.

Thanks to the N.C. DOT for knocking this out, and thanks to WTVD for help getting the word out. It’s looking better already!

Cheap thoughts: Sound museum

A few weekends ago I was visiting my parents when I thought to look for one of the 1970s-era telephones they had in storage. I had recently realized that my kids had never heard the sound of a real ringing telephone and I thought that was a shame. Modern phones all come with electronic ringers, which pale in comparison to the urgency that a bell provides. The closest they could get to hearing the sound of a ringing bell is a ringtone on an iPhone. I found the old phone I was looking for and made it ring a few times for the kids’ sake (and ok, for mine too). What a contrast it provided to today’s phones.
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Father’s Day

I’m putting the finishing touches on a pretty fun Father’s Day weekend. There was dancing and clowning around at Music on the Porch Friday night; puttering around the house and playground fun at Lions Park Saturday; a friend’s birthday party Saturday night; and projects with the kids, a seafood lunch, and pool time today. It’s been a hot, dry weekend but still my body is feeling pretty happy now.

This evening after the kids went to bed Kelly and I were chatting. “Parenthood is going by fast,” I exclaimed, following it with “ is going by fast!” I will never have another Father’s Day when our daughter is eight and our son is 5-and-a-half. Those events of the past 48 hours that just moments ago filled my senses are now only memories. Happy ones, but memories still: in the book, closed out, and never to be lived again.

The question to be asked at the end of each day is “did I live this day to its fullest?” For today, the answer is yes. I hope that holds true for the rest of my days.

Return to Carowinds, part 2

Hallie and I met up with Kelly and Travis after Hallie and I got off Thunder Road. We then headed back to our car to eat lunch. We thought we might go from there to the water side of the park (Boomerang Bay) but decided there were a few more coasters to be ridden before that. So we left our swimwear in the car and went back into the park.

Our first order of business was to cool off! It was now after 1 PM and the low overcast skies had now given way to hot sun. Thinking we could cool off at Rip Roarin’ Rapids, we reached the ride entrance only to find out it would be an hour wait. I smirked at this, as this has been the case with Rip Roarin’ Rapids since the first summer it opened. Some things never change. Rather than waste an hour for this ride, we split up again. This time Hallie would take Kelly on Thunder Road while I went with Travis to ride the “helicopters,” also known as Woodstock’s Whirly Birds.
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Return to Carowinds

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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