Tag Archives: Six Flags

Where Am I?

The question isn’t is this embarrassing. No, the question is one of degree.

Just how embarrassing is it to get lost in your own “hometown?”

Even worse, this isn’t the first time it’s happened to me. I’m beginning to think I might have a problem.

The first time was when I was in junior high school. (For those of you unfamiliar, that was the school between elementary [k-6] and high school [10-12].)

We had some friends come in from out of town. They wanted to go to Six Flags over Texas, which was just outside of the small suburb of Dallas where I grew up.

We managed to make it there all right, with only a few minimal disruptions. The problem came when we headed home and there weren’t any more signs leading us to our destination. This was (way, way, way) before cell phones or the like, so we were on our own. The older kids from out of town didn’t know which way to go and they looked to me for answers.

I turned around to see who they were looking at behind me. I had a vague notion of the direction to go, but it wasn’t all that good of a vague notion. I was asked — repeatedly and forcefully — how I could live in a town and not know my way around it. Mostly it was because I wasn’t driving yet and spent most of my car time with my nose buried in an actual paper book.

We didn’t starve to death. We eventually found our way home (hours and hours after curfew, but the parents had been too busy partying to really worry) and all was good.

Until the last weekend when I got that horrible flashback feeling. My friend, Pitt (who I’ve known since high school and who recently moved here from Pittsburgh) and I were headed to a fundraiser put on by the P Strong Foundation to raise money to support research into rare cancers.

I was in the driving seat, a position with which I was intimately familiar considering I’d been driving for more than three decades. I thought I knew my way around Charlotte. Turns out, I was wrong.

Pitt, who’s been here less than two years, knew where the event was. It was Pitt who knew where to park and how to get from the parking garage to the Bal Masque Gala at the Marriott City Center.

The first one I can blame on youth. The second time? I’m still going to blame that one on youth. Not my own, of course, but my young dudes. See, I’ve been so busy rearing the young dudes since I came to Charlotte fifteen years ago that I never got a chance to really know my way around the city. Unless you counted the areas around the Chuck E Cheese and other young-dude attractions.

That counts, right? You dudes are buying that, yeah? Right?

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Spring Break Road Trip

by Richard

Here’s another of the unexpected joys of having a child in a private school (and I’m not even talking about the wallet-emptying, money sucking void the tuition turned out to be): Every other year, the private school in which Zippy the Monkey Boy is enrolled has the same spring break as do other private schools and, on the alternating years, it has the spring break that public schools have.

George of the Jungle and Speed Racer are in public schools. Which means that Zippy has spring break starting on Friday, while George of the Jungle and Speed Racer don’t have their spring break until April. Because we’re nice, wonderful people (and because I don’t want a bored, cranky Zippy the Monkey Boy underfoot for nine days) we decided to give the little dude a little spring break of his own.

Road trip!

Zippy the Monkey Boy and I are going down to Atlanta for about five days to give him some time away from video games and sleeping so late he gets up when his brothers come home from school. Believe me, that gets really annoying. He gets up, yawns and ambles down to make fun of his school-bound brothers. Sure, it will be reversed when George of the Jungle and Speed Racer have their spring break, but, for now, it’s all about annoying them.

So we decided to get him out of town for a while. Zippy the Monkey Boy being Zippy the Monkey Boy, we thought we’d spend time hanging upside down, falling from great heights and gawking at other animals. Yeah, we’re planning on hitting Six Flags over Georgia, the Georgia Aquarium, the zoo down there and anything else interesting that I can think of.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m also going to be making a little time to drop in on Georgia Tech, to give him an idea of what an urban university looks like. Consider it a preview of the college death march we’re going to be taking together come summer. We’ve already started talking about it and he’s told me he wants to visit schools in Florida, Louisiana, North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia.

Yeah, right.

Anyway, we’re planning on having a little fun and adventure this time around.

So, when you hear a distant scream, like a little girl about to be covered in daddy long legs, waft in on the wind from somewhere far away, think of me as I whip around the Six Flags park, praying for death and wondering what’s taking so long.

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