CARLTON FLETCHER: Albany’s always had its share of heaven and hell

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from hell.

— Pink Floyd

A prominent Albany citizen — who will remain nameless for this account — came up with the quote of the year for 2014 only an hour or so before that old year gave way to 2015.

Having just left the Good Life Social Club’s wonderfully received masquerade ball at the Flint RiverQuarium, said citizen ventured north a short ways to the adjacent Imagination Theatre, where congregants of the Real Church were holding a New Year’s watch service. After listening to a bit of spiritual singing and taking in the joyous atmosphere in the theater, our hero quipped, “Well, tonight in downtown Albany we’ve got a little bit of heaven and a little bit of hell.”

And while the comment was meant to accentuate the diverse events that were taking place in close proximity to one another — and I’ll stress this: The comment in no way was meant to condemn the Good Life Social Club ball, which was, after all, a fundraiser for a couple of worthy organizations — it was a compelling statement about the different-ends-of-the-spectrum opportunities that have always been available here.

Some among the aging local power structure don’t want to admit that Albany is not just the historic Good Life City that they remember from their childhood, the quaint, Mayberry-like community where people “didn’t have to lock their doors at night” and drag-racing was about the only mischief they and their “Happy Days”-like friends got up to.

Nostalgia has a way of helping us remember mostly just the good stuff from our formative years, the rose-colored-glasses view, of the time when our music was better than anything that came before it, our schools fully prepared us for our place in the adult world, we and our friends were sophisticated beyond our years and we were destined to be the princes and princesses our parents always told us we were.

It’s not until the real world of our community reveals its true self — a glance over the top of that rose glass — that we get a more realistic picture of the place we call home.

Even in the era so lovingly referred to as its “golden days” (usually by only a certain well-heeled segment of the population), Albany led something of a double life. While Sheriff Andy and Aunt Bee were tucking in the Albany Opies at night, the owners of a well-known series of bars and nightclubs were welcoming their first customers of what usually became a swinging evening, the regulars who made sure they got the best seats for the inevitable entertainment, whether it was taking place on a stage or among the crowd.

Before there were local papparazzi and tabloid journalism, it was a poorly kept secret that the movers and the shakers of Albany would be at such-and-such a club at such-and-such a time, often engaged in activity that would have the gossips’ tongues wagging at the “church on every corner” Sunday mornings.

Before society’s meddling do-gooders created silly rules prohibiting such, Albany was as well-known outside the city limits for its gambling casino and its cadre of notorious ladies of the evening as it was for the wholesome sodas and burgers served at the Arctic Bear or the convoy of cars filled with hormone-fueled teens innocently cruising the main drag up and down Slappey Boulevard in search of entertainment a notch or two down the scale from that enjoyed by the grown folks.

Given the reality of Albany’s maybe not always so glorious past, perhaps our prominent citizen’s take on the New Year’s Eve events hosted by the Real Church and the Good Life Social Club Wednesday into Thursday actually wasn’t that far off. Even in its most innocent of times, it seems there’s always been an undercurrent of mischief to be had in this community we call home … a little bit of heaven mixed with an equal share of hell.