I remember a place called The Roadrunner. I loved that name, and still do. It stood where a laundromat now stands, on Park Avenue, in Rutherford, the town I grew up in.
My mom used to take us, me, my brother and sister, there, when I was real young, like 8 or 9. Somewhere around that age when things just went slower. And you had more time to pay attention to the little world that was yours. The place was a semi-restaurant, slightly ice-cream parlor, kinda bar. I really am vague on what it was.
Anyway, we would head on in, and there was a friendly owner who used to always seem happy to see us. But I don’t remember him so well. What I do recall is the arcade game…kung-fu. That, to this day, is the stuff of Fogarty family lore. It had two possible options, red team or blue team. You would come together on a mat, and a fat old Asian ref would simply say, with a baritone voice: “Begin.” Whoever won the match would be rewarded with “red (or blue) team wins.”
We used to play that great game every time. It was so much fun that the ice cream became almost a secondary motive for going to the Roadrunner. But stepping into that cool, dark, and slightly mysterious place on a scorching summer day was heavenly. Whether it was for ice cream or kung-fu.
My mom used to take us, me, my brother and sister, there, when I was real young, like 8 or 9. Somewhere around that age when things just went slower. And you had more time to pay attention to the little world that was yours. The place was a semi-restaurant, slightly ice-cream parlor, kinda bar. I really am vague on what it was.
Anyway, we would head on in, and there was a friendly owner who used to always seem happy to see us. But I don’t remember him so well. What I do recall is the arcade game…kung-fu. That, to this day, is the stuff of Fogarty family lore. It had two possible options, red team or blue team. You would come together on a mat, and a fat old Asian ref would simply say, with a baritone voice: “Begin.” Whoever won the match would be rewarded with “red (or blue) team wins.”
We used to play that great game every time. It was so much fun that the ice cream became almost a secondary motive for going to the Roadrunner. But stepping into that cool, dark, and slightly mysterious place on a scorching summer day was heavenly. Whether it was for ice cream or kung-fu.
4 comments:
beautifully written, evokes a more simple, peaceful time... of youth and discovery!
thanks, anonymous. I appreciate the encouragement! It keeps me writing. Readership is quite inspiring.
it really is wonderful, Daddydan. I loved every minute of it.
I remember the Roadrunner on Park Ave. I recall going there several times, and for one of my birthdays. It was a great place for a kid back then.
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