Friday night, I’m meeting my friend Wally and his beloved Martha for dinner. Wally and I go back to around the late 80’s. We were introduced through my father who responded to a burglary at his home. While writing up the report, my father couldn’t help but notice the thousands of vinyl albums that Wally collected. Dad told him about my massive collection and mentioned that I worked at Peaches Music & Video.
Peaches was the “be all, end all” record store in Greensboro for many years. I remember catching a ride across town with Mom once to pick up a copy of The Scorpions ‘Love At First Sting’ ($5.98 - vinyl) and a collection of classical guitar music by Segovia. It was my first time there and I remember walking in, smelling the incense, and being astonished by the selection spread out across the massive floor and on the walls. I felt like Charlie in the Chocolate Factory and I nearly broke out with a gleeful tune and a step or two. I wanted to break free, grab a hard-to-find Motorhead album, and leap through the aisles like a Solid Gold Dancer! I couldn’t believe the selection! They put the Record Bar that I always shopped at to shame.
I knew right then and there, I wanted to work at Peaches. And a few years later, I got a job there.
The first day, I managed to piss off the General Manager of the whole chain. I walked out onto the sales floor and he came over to me and calmly said, “Get your hands out of your pockets.”
And being young and dumb, I replied without even the tiniest thought as to who this person may be, “Who the hell are you?”
Later, the Store Manager told me that my job was in jeopardy right off the bat. But, he kept me on and I worked there for five years before eventually getting the boot.
Even though the pay sucked, that was one of my favorite jobs. I met friends that I still have today since working there. And unlike anywhere else, customers and a few coworkers respected my opinions. Imagine that…
Wally struck up a conversation with me one day and even though we don’t see each other all that much, we’re still good friends. Although, I’ve always thought that he tolerated my opinions.
Wally was the first person to take me to a NASCAR race at North Wilkesboro. Yep, he infected me with the bug that still swims throughout my bloodstream. We hit races in Martinsville, Darlington, and Charlotte. Sometimes, we wouldn’t go to the race, we’d just go and check out the collectables to seek out what treasures we could find. I regret never attending a race at Rockingham, but I saw it when there were trees surrounding the track.
When I have the money and time, I’ll travel up to Martinsville to take in all the scenery and shake that bug out of its slumber. I haven’t been to a race in years and I’m starting to feel the same way that Wally does about it. Why deal with all the traffic and headaches when you can watch it at home? Are we getting “old”?
Once, I was outbid on an item being auctioned off at Martinsville. It was the nose clip from Dick Trickle’s number 64 Dura-Lube Busch Series racecar. The kicker was that a guy named Craven Morehead outbid me. Aren’t those a couple of class ‘A’ names for ya?
I thought that it was a fake name and I would get my Dick Trickle nose clip, but it didn’t happen. As it turns out, Craven Morehead is a real person. What are the odds?
Perhaps Wally and I will get to watch a few races together in the upcoming season?