Slot Car Racing at the ZIP – PART 1 

I wasn’t sure why I did it. Maybe it was the checkered flags waving in the wind. Perhaps it was the people I could see through the large glass windows. Probably though it was the neon sign, giving off a red and blue glow on that Saturday night as I drove down that unfamiliar street. If I hadn’t decided to take a shortcut home from dropping my daughter and her friend off at the movies, I never would have seen the words “Slot Car Racing”, beckoning me through the cold drizzle that fell this November evening. 

I slowed down and whipped the Malibu into the only empty parking place left and called my wife on my cell.

“Hey baby, I dropped the girls off and just made a pit stop at a place called ‘Zip Motor Speedway’.

“Sloan, are you at a race track”, my wife of eighteen years ask.
”I am Brandy, but it’s a slot car track.”

I could tell by the following silence that she didn’t know what I was talking about.

“You know baby, slot cars.”

Still silence.

“Small, scale model cars that people race,” I added.

“Oh I get it,” she finally said. “My little brother used to play with those when we were kids.”

“Yeah, well I did too you know. Anyhow, I’m going to go in a check it out, so I probably won’t be home until after I pick the girls up from the theater.

“All right dear. You have fun watching the little kids play with their toy cars. Maybe you can talk about football or hunting with the other dads that are there watching their boys.”

Silence again. This time it was because I was wondering if she was right. I looked back over my shoulder, hoping I could see if there were children in there but the back window was spotted with rain, making visibility impossible.

“O.k doll. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Bye.”

She told me “bye” and we both hung up. I got out and jogged up to the door, noticing my reddish-blue reflection in the windows as I approached. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to get whatever rain drops that sat there to disappear. I then reached out toward the door which had the word “ZIP” on it and went in.

Slot Car Racing at the ZIP – PART 2 

The glass door closed with a thud behind me and I was immediately immersed in a world of color and sound. My eyes gravitated toward a huge six-lane slot car track that was elevated about four feet off the floor by wooden bench work, finished off by stained wooden panels that stretched downward from the track’s fascia to within about six inches of the carpeted floor. Miniature trees and structures covered the 1/32 scale world and my eyes were having a tough time drinking it all in as they darted around the track almost as fast as the little 1/32 scale slot cars that were zipping around the track in a mad dash to victory. 

Along one of the straight-aways stood the slot car racers themselves, and I was relieved to see that none were children. As a matter of fact, the youngest driver standing there appeared to be perhaps twenty years old and the oldest looked to be seventy. In addition to the diversity at the driver’s stand was the diversity of slot cars that filled three long glass display cases over on the store-side of the large room. Boxes and boxes of every type of 1/32 scale slot car imaginable lined the glass shelves and were stacked five high like colorful building blocks. The only two slot car brands I was familiar with were AFX and Tyco, but those were nowhere to be seen as I read the boxes. Alien to me were names like Scalextrics, Fly, Carerra, and Monogram. I also noticed the prices on the boxes but wasn’t surprised; I mean after all, why shouldn’t a larger, highly detailed, scale slot car cost more than the little HO scale cars I played with as a boy back in the seventies? 

I had been at the ZIP for less than five minutes but was already picking up a good vibe about the place. The sound of the little electric motors winding up on the long back-straight, the friendly back and fourth banter of the drivers, the clack of paint swapping as four-wheeled battles played out on the plastic track, all seemed to make the stress of life melt away. I was watching a close three-way battle for position by two Ford GT40s and a Ferrari when an old man standing next to me said, “Aren’t they wonderful?”

“Absolutely!” I said as turned toward the short, but stout looking old man. He looked to be in his late sixties. Dresses in corduroy pants and a red t-shirt, his eyes twinkled from under bushy, grey eyebrows as he held out his hand. As I reached out for the hand shake, I noticed his shirt was silk-screened with the word “Zip”, in large white letters, and the “Slot Car Racing”, underneath in smaller yellow letters.

“I’m Zeno Ian Pacelli,” the old man said as he grasp my hand with a surprisingly strong grip, and shook it with what seemed like a heartfelt vigor.

“I own this place,” he said, letting go of my hand and crossing his arms in satisfaction as he took a quick look around his slot car paradise before focusing his attention back on me.

“It’s quite a place you have Mr. Pacelli…

“Please, call me Zeno,” my friend.

“Ok Zeno, call me Sloan,” I said in reply.

“All right Sloan. So tell me; are you a slot car racer?”

I was tempted to say yes, based of course on my childhood experiences, but as six F1 slot cars, virtually side by side, blasted through the turn at which Zeno and I stood, I had to admit I wasn’t, but did have a little experience some thirty-two years ago with AFX HO slot cars.

Zeno laughed hard as he took a step toward me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Come over here Sloan, and let me show you what’s changed since you were a little boy,” the old man said as he pointed me toward the ‘store side’ of the room and started walking, his hand still on my shoulder. We made our way through a maze of folding tables in the pit area where I noticed plastic and wooden carrying boxes filled with colorful 1/32 scale slot cars. I received several hellos from slot car enthusiast that were seated at some of the tables tinkering with their slot cars.

We finally reached the glass display cases I had seen from the door when I first walked in. The glass counters formed a sort of wall, separating the racing facility from the store part of the room. Behind the glass cases, the wall was well stocked with various car parts and tires. I squatted down for an even closer look into one of the display cases and was aware that old Zeno lowered himself in unison with me. I refocused on the slot cars stacked before me.

“They look a bit better than your 1970’s AFX don’t they,” he said softly.

“With out a doubt,” I said as my eyes drank in the beauty of the 1/32 scale slot cars. I was amazed at the level of detail I was seeing, from side view mirrors and roof antennas to brake-rotors and intricate grill work. I knew at that moment that I would be taking a couple of slot cars home with me.

Slot Car Racing at the Zip – Part 4

The garage door was closing behind us as my daughter Jessica and her friend Emily scurried into the house. I pulled the trunk release and got out and headed toward the rear of the car. I was feeling a little anxious as I glanced toward the door that led into house, hoping I wouldn’t see Brandi’s face peering out at me in suspicion. Seeing that the coast was clear, I lifted the trunk lid and snatched up the plastic, black and white checkered bag that I had placed there before leaving the Zip’s parking lot. With the stealth of a Ninja, I managed to close the trunk with only a slight click of the latch and then made my way over to my workbench with the kind of silence that would have made our cat Max, proud. I glance over my shoulder toward the door again before I put the bag on a shelf over the workbench, hiding it behind a plastic bucket.

Brandi met me at the door with a kiss as I entered the house. Her long dark hair then fell across my left shoulder as she moved her face away from mine and stood on her tiptoes, looking over my shoulder into the garage.

“What are you doing babe,” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t detect the panic in my voice.

“Just looking to see what you were doing Sloan.”

“Doing? I was coming in from picking the girls up.” I felt the hairs on the back of my neck starting to stand up.

“Well I saw you coming from your work bench, which is on the passenger side, all the way over on my car’s side and you always head to the door by going from your driver’s side, around the front of your car. This time you were coming from the other side and I was just curious, that’s all.”

“I was just making sure I had unplugged the charger for the cordless drill,” I said moving past her and walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, ok,” she said as she closed the door to the garage and followed me.

“Hey babe, how bout dishing us up a couple bowls of ice cream and joining me on the couch for a little TV before bed.”

“Can we watch something I want to watch?” she asked.

“You bet gorgeous,” I replied as those hairs on my neck relaxed.