April 20, 2008

Excessive Acceleration

Don't they care? I'm referring to those Nashville motorists who zoom through the city at Interstate Highway speeds.

Apart from the legality of exceeding the posted speed limit, and based on everything I've heard, it's a waste of fuel and money. Why in the name of common sense do they do this when gasoline is pushing toward $4.00 a gallon or more?

Speaking as one who remembers when a gallon of Texaco, Gulf or Esso was only 18 cents, it pains me every time I have to press down forcefully on the gas pedal. I can almost see the dollar signs flashing before my eyes.

Back during the federally imposed 55 miles-per-hour speed limits on the interstates, I drove the 700 miles to central Florida and, to my surprise, enjoyed the slower trip. I got there almost as soon as before and I was more relaxed, without the tension of having to maintain a racecar speed.

But that was when fuel was a lot cheaper, although we had gone through a nationwide gas shortage that led to government conservation efforts.
I'm not saying everyone should slow to a crawl, but when I'm trying to save money and gas by doing the posted 55 mph limit, I wish those highway speed demons wouldn't try to run me down.

You know who you are.

Posted by Charlie at 10:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

November 17, 2007

We Interrupt This Program...

I was the unwitting victim of an elaborate "practical joke" back in the internationally tense and fearful Cold War year of 1956. I think I was targeted because I was the new hire at a major Nashville radio station that was known for staff hijinks. I was also young and more gullible than I am today.

It all unfolded during a lull in the day's schedule, when I was nearly dozing off while reading a magazine in the newsroom. Suddenly, the news director rushed in, breathless and waving a sheet of wire service news copy from the Teletype printer.

He told me to run down the hall to the booth where we did our newscasts and get it on the air, while he would feed me more details as they came in. Most people got their breaking news from radio in those days; but I acted instinctively and didn't stop to think that what I was about to report would be on the network first.

The control operator was waiting for me. He switched the microphone on while I told listeners that normal programming was being interrupted for a "flash" from Washington.

My hands were shaking as I read aloud that Soviet planes had hit New York, Chicago, and San Francisco with nuclear bombs. Thousands had been killed and destruction was unbelievable. At that time, I had two sisters and their families living in San Francisco and all I could think about was that they were probably dead.

The "On The Air" light was still on in the news booth as I continued to deliver more grim details of the holocaust. Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw fellow station employees standing on the other side of the big glass window with stricken and panicked expressions on their faces while I reported what I thought was the start of World War Three.

Then the news director, who had been feeding me wire copy, whispered in my ear, "This is all a bunch of s--t." Thinking that he had cracked under the strain, I pushed him aside and kept on reading.

A moment later, I noticed the people on the other side of the glass were bent over laughing. Everyone was laughing except me. The entire staff was in on the practical joke that never got on the air. The newswire copy was a realistic fake.

They told me that I was so upset and angry it took three or four people to restrain me from slugging everyone in sight. But I must admit it was all very well planned and executed.

Oddly enough, for the remainder of the Cold War I had no worries about a surprise Soviet air strike—after all, I had already gone through it!

Posted by Charlie at 05:30 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)

October 08, 2007

Preserving The Past

I remember, as a teenager, walking through the Tennessee State Capitol on a random visit and being impressed by the historical artifacts hanging from the walls.

There were bullet-riddled Confederate battle flags, along with other Civil War paraphernalia such as weapons, uniforms, photographs and various documents. I asked myself, why is this stuff hanging out here in the heat and humidity? Shouldn't it be hermetically protected in a museum situation?

That was in the 1940s, near the end of World War Two, when anyone could walk through the Capitol whenever they felt like it.
To give an idea of the times, the slum-like section behind Capitol Hill to the north was a haven for what was politely referred to in those days as "houses of ill repute". Urban renewal and the creation of James Robertson Parkway was still in the future.

The State Library and Archives was contained in one anteroom of the Capitol and the Tennessee State Museum operated from cramped quarters in the basement of the War Memorial Building. I'm happy to report that both institutions have long since enjoyed greatly improved facilities with even more to come.

It was during this same period that I frequented the old downtown Carnegie Library on Eighth Avenue North. That turn of the century structure was Nashville's main public library in those days. Anyway, I was appalled to find ancient newspapers and other precious periodicals laid out and gathering dust on tables, where visitors could leaf through them or do any amount of damage they desired.

Thank goodness people finally woke up to the need for historical preservation. And thanks to modern technology we can maintain those vital links to the past.

Posted by Charlie at 07:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

September 12, 2007

The Chili Connection

The end of an era came for me with the death recently of 93 year old Frank Varallo Jr. Nashvillians of a certain age can be moved to fond recollection by the names Varallo, Petrucelli, Vietti and others.

The story goes that when some of those Italian families immigrated to Nashville early in the last century, they came through Central America where they learned the art of making Chili Con Carne.
Downtown Nashville eventually became laced with chili parlors operated by them, and that food specialty became as much a local favorite as grits and country ham.

No trip downtown for me was complete without a stop at Nick and Domenick's on Church Street for chili "three-ways" after a movie at the nearby Paramount Theater. My contemporaries will recall that the highly regarded three-way version included chili, spaghetti and tamales. Tony The Chili King on Deaderick Street also served a great three-way platter.

I remember a visit to New York City fifty years ago when I mentioned to an Italian friend that his restaurateur compatriots in Nashville specialized in serving chili instead of Italian cuisine. He thought I was kidding.

It was very lucrative for them, however: it was the rare Nashville kitchen pantry that did not contain a supply of canned Varallo or Vietti chili, still available today. Several generations of Nashville youngsters grew up on that spicy concoction.

I made the trek downtown to Ninth and Church for the final days of Frank Varallo's restaurant and his tasty chili. Those occasions were also sad for me because I could see the passing of a special part of Old Nashville.

But there's hope for the future--a new generation, Frank's grandsons, opened Varallo's Too downtown restaurant to continue serving the famous three-way chili.

Posted by Charlie at 02:37 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

August 06, 2007

Primm Springs

I've been there only once, and that was fifty years ago…but I'll never forget a visit to the old Primm Springs resort.

For reasons that now escape me, our radio station staff was invited to a dinner outing at that remote location in Hickman County. I think it had something to do with the fact that our boss had been a frequent visitor there as a child.

We drove for miles on backcountry roads, even fording creeks because there was no bridge. Finally, we arrived at what had been a popular summer resort in another time. Abandoned cottages were located near an ancient hotel made of logs, and close to a spring whose mineral waters were once believed to contain health-giving qualities.

The two elderly Estes sisters, who said their father had built the old hotel, kept it open for special occasions like our visit.
The original guest registry was on display, and contained names and dates going back more than a century. There was no running water or electricity in the hotel, or in any of the guest rooms that appeared to have been furnished during Civil War times.

We were served dinner by the light of kerosene lamps, at rustic wooden tables, in the hotel’s small dining room. The food, cooked on wood-burning stoves, was absolutely delicious, and was one of my all-time best meals.

I wasn't brought back to 1950s awareness until, on the return drive to Nashville, the car radio blared out with the then-new musical genre of rock-n-roll.

Summer resorts still operate today in Tennessee as popular destinations with all the modern conveniences, but I wonder if they can provide the same enjoyable atmosphere like that long-ago exposure to a simpler time in quaint Primm Springs.

Posted by Charlie at 10:25 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)