(Well, this isn’t a story I told to my kids but it happened with Johnny and was sort of a bridge between being mischievous kids and adolescence. An awkward time, for sure.)
This is part of the “Tell Me a Story” collection of stories. To know the neighborhood and kids, please check out the map and “whos who” pages first for some context.
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So, this is a story about Johnny, me, being out of control and youthful rite of passage.
The Raleigh Rose Garden is right next to Raleigh Little Theater and was founded in 1939 and it is really a Rose Garden. It’s well-kept, with walkways, little gazebos and benches and you can always visit, day or night. It’s beautiful and popular for family-style picnics, weddings and slow walks full of meaning conversation.
We learned about this special Raleigh site in Mrs. Harrrelson’s civics class at Martin Junior High as an Raleigh institution to be treated with utmost respect.
Hmmm.
Well, this is what happened.
It was a hot Saturday summer night in June of 1971 and Johnny and I were in high school at Needham B. Broughton. Johnny and I were going to a late show at the Varsity Theater on Hillsborough Street and decided to do a bit of “tailgating” before the show and took a brown bag of cheap wine into the Rose Garden with us for “just a few sips.”
It was Mogen David 20-20, other wise known as MD 20-20, notoriously known as Mad Dog 20-20. This stuff, along with Boone’s Farm, were popular at the time with kids in high school because both were cheap, had a bit of kick to it and had a fruity flavor that went down nice and easy.
Neither one of us had ever had MD 20-20 before, or been seriously drunk so we didn’t know how much to get. But, God forbid we wouldn’t have enough and somehow, ended up with four bottles.
I parked my family’s mustard Datsun 510 on the street, and we got out and just went through the woods and down a short, very steep hill into the Rose Garden. It was really dark, and we had no flashlight but we knew the Garden well. We had ridden our bikes and skateboarded around the Garden for years and for us, it was just another part of the neighborhood.
We sat on a bench, and unscrewed the top to get into the first bottle of this stuff and after “just a few sips enough to feel good” we would just hike back up that hill and go to the late show. It was so smooth and we didn’t mean to do it but we drank all we had and were soon howling and growling and laughing like silly Mad Dogs. We were laughing at each other for no real reason, and were soon stumbling around that Garden. We laughed hard as we shoved each other and stumbled face-first into the thorny rose bushes but instead of pain, we thought that everything was funny.
Then, the bad side of the Mad Dog got us.
GROSS.
We got so sick and blew MD-concentrated vomit in what seemed like every bush in the area.
It was really horrible, and we ended up trying to go back to the car up that now Everest-hill, falling backwards and rolling back down over the dirt, rocks and sticks. We finally ended up in the Varsity only a block or two over. The movie, “Fillmore” was a rockumentary about one of rock and roll’s most famous venues and we were late and it already started. But, we couldn’t drive or go home like this and we went into the movie just to sleep it off and try to sober up a bit.
We were still pretty lit-up when we got to the theater and and just started laughing at at ourselves as we eyed each other under the fluorescent lights of the Varsity Theater to get our tickets. And, you know how it is when you are trying too hard to act sober and you start talking like Jimmy Stewart. I remember the ticket window girl laughing at us. She knew something was going on. I mean, who shows odoriferous of cheap wine, and vomit, and totally muddy and faces bloody from the thorns…when you are sober???!!!
But, we were not judged. It was a late show, it was a rock n’ roll show and it was the 70s. Almost everyone there was along the spectrum of being “f*cked up.” Mission, more than accomplished.
Things got better (sober) for us as we passed time (dozed) in the Varsity and felt okay as the movie ended.
I dropped Johnny off at this house on Friendly Drive and I was worried because my parents were night owls. Almost nightly, they would watch Johnny Carson and anything else that might be on before sign-off. I enjoyed those times with them and my dad would sometimes unwrap and open a can of Underwood Deviled Ham and we’d eat it with Saltines. But, please God, not tonight.
Thankfully, by the time I got home, everyone was asleep and I quickly went to my room, peeled off my clothes, took a shower and threw the stinking evidence of my window. I got in bed, inhaled a big single breath of cool air conditioned air and lay there so relieved.
It was done and we got away with it all.
Until about 8:30 am. That was when my dad began doing yard work and found my blood and puke-laden pile of clothing strewn atop the bushes. I had some explaining to do.
So, he gave me a long talk about drinking and driving, and it was serious and I remember it to this day.
Then, he asked about all the crap on my clothes. I spilled the whole story. How we were going to just have a taste, and somehow began shoving each other into the thorn bushes and the all the blood and the mud and the puke, and I swear, I actually think he was about to bust out laughing.
Now, since that time, my children have been involved in many activities within Raleigh Little Theater. I cannot help but grin just a little bit when I look in the area and remember what an insane night Johnny and I had that night thanks to the Mad Dog.
And, thank goodness for late shows.
Johnny died April 20, 2018. At his service, I told this story as an attempt to let people know how much Johnny meant to me, and how we grew up together.
A Father Looks Past Sixty 