Archive for the 'Reflections' Category

The Corner Reflection: Don’t Sass the Chief of Police

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Jeremy Clifton
on October 15, 2006
in Life, Reflections and The Corner
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It’s been several days since I’ve posted a fond memory of The Corner … so it’s well past time I do so again.

One day, Ruth and I were working the lunch shift. We saw a car pull up out front, and its driver positioned it directly in front of the fire hydrant (which was about as close to the door of the building you could get), disembarked, and came inside.

Just after she entered, one of the patrons eating lunch spoke up and said, “Ma’am, if I were you I’d move my car.”

The woman didn’t as much as look over, and responded quite sassily, “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Mind you, the patron in question was the Wake Forest Chief of Police. In uniform. With radio, firearm, etc. He was looking quite law-enforcement-esque this particular day.

Nobody spoke for a few moments. The Chief was rather shocked, and even Ruth was speechless … a rare thing indeed.

Finally, she spoke up. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that is his business, since he’s the chief of police.”

This got the woman’s attention. She whirled around, and saw that Ruth’s stunning allegation was true, gasped, and rushed out of the building. Her car pulled away rather rapidly.

She didn’t come back.

The Corner Closing: One Last Note

Published
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Jeremy Clifton
on October 13, 2006
in News, Reflections and The Corner
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For the sake of posterity, I’m publishing here a letter I submitted to the Wake Weekly. I doubt it will ever see the light of day there, since I sent it so late in the week, and it doesn’t really apply as much any more with this week’s article, but I wanted to record it nonetheless.

From here on out, I won’t focus on the closing any more, but I will continue to post fond memories and recollections, at least until I run out of them. My intention isn’t to mourn the closing any more (though I will miss it), or even to attempt to point fingers, but to celebrate what The Corner was, not just to me, but perhaps to others as well.
Dear Editor,

As an expatriate and friend of “The Corner”, I appreciated your article on its untimely demise. I read with interest the summarized quote from Mr. Beasley, who waxed eloquent concerning the minimal fees assessed in exchange for granting the permit necessary for installation of the required grease trap … but then suddenly found himself much less lucid when discussing the significantly higher cost of actual installation and the associated maintenance fees. I suppose he was simply trying to avoid the embarrassment associated with the public revelation of the “true cost” of the water department merger. Or, perhaps he was simply attempting to avoid the obvious question of why existing Wake Forest businesses were not grandfathered such that they could continue to operate as they had before. But let me move on … nobody wants to cast aspersions on the character of those they don’t know, now do they?

All of us who were intimately involved with The Corner know that the real purpose behind the business wasn’t to profit from the sale of ice cream and sandwiches, but to ‘profit’ from the joy one received from seeing good friends enjoy lunch together, or the smile on a child’s face when they took their cone of ice cream (while standing on the omnipresent steps in front of the ice cream case, of course). The wonderful thing about The Corner was that the patrons who frequented the business profited as well, through time spent with good friends over good food, and good conversation over good coffee … or, in the case of the children, having a warm, friendly environment to eat ice cream on a hot summer day and watch the fish. Yes, The Corner was something of a self-sustaining ecosystem of joy (at least up until the intrusion of the water system merger) and all of Wake Forest was richer for its presence.

Now, however, that ecosystem is gone. There is a hole in Wake Forest, located at the corner of North Main and North Avenue. The old English script lettering that invited us all in has been tearfully scraped off those big plate glass windows with a razor blade, and the interior now sits empty. Yes, I’ll always have the wealth of memories from my times there … first as a young customer, and later as an employee. I’ll always remember the friends, the games of chess, the discussions about politics, theology, and what not, and best of all, the joy of handing a cone of ice cream to a happy child. But … my home-away-from-home in Wake Forest is gone.

To all of my friends who visited The Corner, whether I knew your name or not, thanks for all the memories. I enjoyed meeting each and every one of you, and I hope that one day, when I’m walking down North Main Street during a visit home that I will have the opportunity to see you again. To those of you responsible for the water system merger … well, my mother taught me that if one doesn’t have anything nice to say, they should say nothing at all. But, I’ll leave you with a warning … I’ve heard rumors that certain persons, after passing on from this life, find themselves in a situation where they strongly desire a drop of water to drink. Or maybe a nice, cold scoop of ice cream.

Jeremy Clifton
Chattanooga, TN
Employee Emeritus, The Corner
P.S. That last comment is tongue-in-cheek. I don’t really wish any ill will towards those involved with the merger. Businesses come and go year after year, for one reason or another. Even then, there was more at play with the closing than the grease trap issue. The real lesson here is that we should enjoy the things that we love and hold dear while they are available, for we never know when they might no longer be with us.

More on The Corner and Grease Traps in Wake Forest, NC

Published
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Jeremy Clifton
on October 13, 2006
in News, Reflections and The Corner
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The Wake Weekly has published another article, marginally about the demise of The Corner and more about the high cost of the grease traps required by new regulations brought on by the merger of the town water department with Raleigh’s corresponding department.

I’m a little more pleased with this one. While the previous article featured one “Mr. Beasley” from the Raleigh water department skillfully avoiding any discussion of the cost of installing a grease trap while casting about implications that Mrs. C just didn’t want to pay a $60 permit fee to the Town of Wake Forest, this one comes out and names the cost of installing such a grease trap … and since it does, I now don’t mind mentioning the figures myself.

The article says that Burkenstock’s, the other restaurant I mentioned that had closed because of the grease trap issue, would have had to pay $4,000 to $12,000 to have such a trap installed. The figure I heard for installing one at The Corner was just under $4,000, probably because it wouldn’t have been as large (nor installed underground) like the one for Burkenstock’s.

While I’m glad the issue is getting some press now, I fear it’s probably too late to save any businesses that are affected by the merger. More than likely, the majority of them have complied, or closed up shop if that wasn’t possible.

No matter what happens, I hope that Wake Forest gets another “The Corner” (it may well have one I don’t know about, since I’ve not lived in the area for two years). I know it’s sometimes hard to operate a small business like that in our world of chain stores, but I think it’s worth the effort. Wake Forest was better for having The Corner while it was there, and I’m a better person for my involvement with the operation.

Coke™ is NOT the “Real Thing” for Fish

Published
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Jeremy Clifton
on October 11, 2006
in Life, Reflections and The Corner
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The main story in this “Memories of The Corner” installment isn’t exactly something that I would call a ‘happy memory’ … in fact, it’s pretty sad. But, it revolves around the aquarium that was a fixture there … and I have many, many happy memories of watching kids, ice cream cone in hand, transfixed by the fish.

Perhaps you remember when, many moons ago, Pepsi had a commercial wherein a kid poured his Pepsi into his aquarium, and his fish started to do tricks, and swim rapidly and such. If you remember said commercial, you probably remember that animal rights activists were appalled, because they were sure that kids everywhere would start killing their fish by pouring all varieties of soft drinks into their aquariums.

“Surely,” I thought to myself, “nobody is stupid enough to think that their fish will do tricks for Pepsi, and then pour some in their aquarium.”

At that point, I had an overly high amount of faith in the overall intelligence of the human race. Since then, I’ve discovered a vital truth about life: no matter what level of stupidity one assumes is the worst that can afflict mankind …. somebody, somewhere will demonstrate that assumption to be incorrect.

Actually it’s usually more than one person. And, many times, they are driving.

Back to the story at hand …

The Corner had, for years and years, maybe since its opening, featured a relatively large, thirty-something gallon aquarium. By the time I started working there, it had no fish in it. At some point, I decided to adopt said aquarium, and with the blessings of the management, I cleaned it out, bought new, colorful gravel, a bunch of real, live aquatic plants, and a goodly number of colorful freshwater fish.

The revamped aquarium was a big hit with the children. It was located on one of the large, wide window sills in a side room, and said window sill was conveniently located close to the floor so toddlers could peer in at the fish without having to stand on anything, or be held up by their parents. It was a most excellent setup.

Well, it was a good setup save the fact that it was pretty difficult to actually observe the aquarium from the front counter … but that never bothered me.

After some time, I moved on from basic freshwater fish like guppies and such to cichlids, which are way cool.

Eventually, I bought the pride and joy of my setup … a red tiger oscar. They are genuinely wonderful fish, with quite a bit of personality, not to mention very beautiful, with vibrant orangeish-red spots.

I bought the fish when it was pretty young, and we raised it for a good year and a half, maybe two years. He had gotten to be quite large, and was a lot of fun to observe.

Then, one Saturday morning, one of the employees called my dorm room, and told me something was way wrong with the fish.

I hurried over and found a most of the fish dead, or at least close to death. The red tiger oscar was not happy, and was swimming sort of on its side, close to the top. I noticed the water was a bit off-color, and then discovered a straw floating in the top of the water. I investigated further, and saw that there was some dark, black, sticky stuff running down the back of the aquarium, and a suspiciously Coke-ish smelling puddle behind the aquarium.

Yes, that’s right. Some idiot had poured Coke (or maybe the repugnant diet variety) into the aquarium.

I drained the aquarium and cleaned it out as best I could, and tried to save the oscar. Unfortunately, he died the next day. I’m not sure how much it would have cost to buy an equivalently sized oscar, but I’m guessing it would have been around $35-40, which was quite a bit for a college kid working part-time at a library and ice cream shop.

Truth be told, the Pepsi commercial probably predated the kid who poured his soft drink into the aquarium … but it was the first thing I thought of. Perhaps it was a malicious teenager who murdered my fish. I suppose we’ll never know.

We ended up moving the aquarium out of the side room and into the hall, on top of a desk. It was generally too high for most kids to easily see into, but at least we could observe it.

I never did buy another red tiger oscar. Maybe one day …

Later on, I got another cool fish that the kids loved … one that was called, in common parlance (and, as Dave Barry would say, I’m not making this up) … a “green terror”. Yes, that’s right, that was the common name for his species.

I named him “Tigleth-Pileser II”, in honor of a Biblical Assyrian king. He was a very colorful fish, and I don’t just mean physical color. He was quite territorial. He would follow kids from one end of the aquarium to the other, in an attempt to let them know that was his space they were in. It was absolutely amazing to watch the fun they had running back and forth with the fish following them.

One day, Mrs. C informed me that a customer had complained about the fish the previous day. He was “too aggressive” to be around kids, the idiot claimed. I suppose she must have thought he was going to jump out of the aquarium and eat a kid, JAWS-style. Or, perhaps her kids were some of the poorly-behaved boorish animals that liked to stick their fingers in the aquarium, and he ‘made a move’ for an appendage or two. Who knows …

We kept “Tiggy” (as I called him for short) for a while longer, until he got too big for the aquarium. All of the kids who remembered him were disappointed to see him go, and really missed him. Not bad for a mean fish that was too aggressive.

Ruth Snap and the bus-that-was-in-the-way

Published
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Jeremy Clifton
on October 11, 2006
in Life, Reflections and The Corner
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I promised to write about some of my good memories of working (and being at) The Corner Ice Cream Shop in Wake Forest, and here is the first in that series … better late than never.

For a good while, during my college years at Southeastern Seminary (they had B.A. program that I was enrolled in), I worked lunches at The Corner. This meant that I generally missed chapel services, but hey, a guy has to eat, ya know.

One chapel day, I was heading across campus when I spied a large tour bus parked in the loading zone just outside of the building. This, I knew, was going to be nothing but trouble. Ruth would NOT be happy, especially since it was recycling and trash pickup day, and the bus was between the trash and recycling and the street. As far as the folks operating the trash and recycling trucks were concerned, if they couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist. This was not good, since we barely had enough room to handle a weeks worth of refuse.

Once I crossed the street from the Seminary campus, I began inspecting the bus. It was idling, the door was wide open, and not a soul was to be found. My best guess was that it belonged to some group (or person) appearing in chapel that day … a guess that would be validated a bit later.

Once inside, as I expected, Ruth was indignant, to say the least. I attempted to manipulate the situation to my advantage by encouraging her to have the bus towed. After all, it was parked illegally. I figured it would be pretty cool to see a vehicle that size get towed.

Unfortunately, Ruth wasn’t up for that. Her idea was to call the seminary switchboard, verify that the bus did belong to somebody appearing in chapel, and then gripe about it a bit, which still provided a good bit of entertainment, though not as much as I had envisioned with the towing option.

Whoever answered at the switchboard promised to fetch the driver of said bus; true to their word, somebody arrived and the bus departed, thus ending my fun for the day.

Or so I thought.

I began washing dishes, and after a few minutes, I remarked to Ruth, “I’ll bet that’s the last time they park in our loading zone!”

The words hadn’t even cleared my lips before I saw the same bus round the circle just outside the window. As it approached the building, it slowed, and the driver navigated it right back into loading zone.

Ruth was quiet for a minute or so, and then said something … the exact words I don’t remember, but I’m relatively sure it was peppered with enough profanity to cause the most seasoned sailor you can imagine to blush in shame. Next thing I knew, she had burst through the back door to accost the driver.

About 30 seconds after Ruth’s hasty exist, one of our regular customers from one of the offices upstairs came in the front door, and ordered something. Whatever it was, it didn’t take me long to prepare for him, and he paid up, took his food, and started to exit.

“I wouldn’t go out there right now if I were you,” I said.

“Why is that?”

“You see that bus out there?”

“Ooooooooh,” he responded, with a growing smile. “Bet Ruth is happy!”

We opened the door and listened to a bit of the fire and brimstone that was being called down from on high. Eventually, we heard the driver yield to the verbal barrage by yelling “FINE”, and the bus shifted into gear, the engine roared into action, and the bus surged erratically out of the loading zone.

The driver didn’t go very far. As I recall, he moved forward about 150 feet, parked the bus in the middle of the street, and activated his hazard flashers. Made quite a mess of traffic while it was there.

But Ruth didn’t care. “At least he’s not in our @#$% loading zone!” … and the trash and recycling got picked up.