With some people it requires advancing years to bring a niggling sense of mortality.
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Missing some, but not all
Card catalogs, yes. Couples skate? Maybe not.
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Evolution: Electronics Edition
But wait, there's more detritus; calculators, voice recorders, and an electronic dictionary.
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Slow Down… Things are Much Better IRL
More than one (older) person I know has reflected on the shortened time-frame that we all take for granted today. We get instant news from that third-cousin you met once at a family gathering. We can read tweets from famous people and comment on them the next day at work. We can find and discover anything, as long as you can enter a search phrase for it (and heck, Google even completes your search phrases for you). Why travel? You can see the whole world as images or in 3D.
For anyone under 25, there is no such thing as waiting for something to happen (unless you need to go to the DMV… I don’t think that’s changed much.)
Take television, for example. Yes, we still watch two-dimensional screens, but we can choose anything we want to watch, as long as it exists, and we can watch it NOW. Waiting for your show on Sunday nights at 8pm? Gone. Oh, and if you missed an episode you were totally SOL. You had to wait for re-runs. We had one TV in the living room; if there was a conflict, well then, let the negotiations begin.
How about pay phones? Do young kids even know they existed at all? After all, what are the red English boxes besides a travel machine for Dr. Who? What if you didn’t have quarters? Or the operation would come on and tell you to put more money in. I remember tapping those phones and succeeding on occasion to dial the correct number. Now, as long as you’re not in the middle of the Mojave desert, there’s no need for them any longer. Order Chinese take out on your drive home. Come on, admit that you’ve done that…
What about boom boxes with dual-cassette tapes? Making a custom tape was huge when I grew up, and we used to steal the songs off the radio. Many of mine started or ended with an announcer (or I would splice the announcer out, sacrificing a few seconds on each end…). Buying a song for 99 cents instantly was unfathomable back then.
Pens. Yes, pens exist today. Everyone can identify one if they see it. Does anyone under 30 write anything down? Rarely. Who can be bothered when your laptop is already on. Never mind the annoying clicking sound during a meeting or class, just type, save, and never look at it again.
I have adapted to today’s pace and I enjoy the benefits of it. I can even be accused of being on the bleeding edge of it on occasion. But we’ve lost an ability to be patient and to use the time in between to be introspective. After all, when you have to sit and wait for the bus for 20 minutes with no cell phone or Internet, you can reflect on the day’s activities or what you plan to do later in the week. You can anticipate going to your grandmother’s house on Sunday. Maybe she’ll make that casserole you love. You can observe the people around you and make up fantastical stories about their lives. You can wonder if you should get a new dog, because after all, you never needed to check the Internet while walking your best friend… and that’s the most important realization of all: that the best moments happen IRL (in real life).
My Grandmother Jocelyn Would Be Proud
One morning my parents sat me down and told me that Jocelyn had passed away… that was when I started being serious about playing the piano.
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Telephone Exchanges
UNiversity, BUtterfield, KLondike, WOodward, YUkon—those old phone numbers were so easy to remember.
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Prom Night Memories
My soulmate/boyfriend/future husband
and father of my future children
worked on me with words
until I willingly released the
traditions of high school to embrace
the rebellion of making different choices.
Despite the Gunny-sax hippy dress that
was the uniform of proms in those days,
that I had shopped with mom and best friend
for hours in the city for;
he knew that mountains, and outdoor living
would call to my heart more clearly
than girl’s fashion, peer pressure boundaries,
that were actually tighter than the
fearful adults’ lines of
awareness,
And so
Me
My birth control pills
My boyfriend
Our friend since 3rd grade. Griffis
(who would die at age 40, leaving us in shock)
And our dog
went, instead of to the dance, to Griffis’s family cabin
in the High Sierra.
The boys brought fishing poles and tackle
I brought 3 books,
And soon found myself reading,
on a “Day-On-The-Green” blanket,
with the dog bringing me a stick
every few minutes,
on the shore,
banished from the boat with the boys,
because though I can scale and gut and fry- up
and savor
a dead fish,
If I see the struggle to survive in my own eyes
I will plead for the preciousness
of that flashing silver magnificence.
begging for the mercy for the fellow hood of life.
Plus, the dog revealed he was not sea-worthy.
That evening in front of a warm and snapping fire
that lit the whole great room
a delicious yellow-flickering-orange
with stomachs full of fresh fried
hand- caught boy- captured
sun- dappled, graduation -days,
very special trout
we drank tequila, smoked pot
and pretended to play card games
while we laughed and got teary
and told stories, and sang
and were silent in that sweet swept away but
very very present way,
these 2 boys who I had loved since 8 years old.
These 2 boys who I will love until my dying day.
Later, retiring to a 4 poster bed
my love and I explored in a very slow
somewhat drunk
full -of -love space,
the wonders
of this human body’s capacity for pleasure.
It is one of those memories that come back
full sensory, with no inclination
to change or twist or enhance,
with a visceral flow of gratitude
from my forehead to my feet.
Best. Prom. Ever.
Cherished Charms
If the house is ever on fire I pray these make it out safely. Admittedly unprepossessing, they are my childhood stuffed toys. The doll I named Margie after my older cousin whom I thought the most beautiful of girls, and Rory, cause elephants roar, get it? Um, right. Mom made the little dress for Margie out of a scrap of fabric and I think I sewed on the one blue button for an eye for Rory. This photo op has me looking at them with a critical eye and seeing they are overdo for some restoration efforts, maybe even new outfits. lol
Second Choice
I was not a “cool” kid in high school, and, though I had run through a fair number of dates, I never had a long-term boyfriend. As prom time approached my senior year, I desperately wanted to attend that rite of passage, but things were not looking good. My two best friends had been in long-term relationships for years and I had no prospects in sight. So when word got back to me that the captain of the swim team had been turned down by his first choice, I started buzzing around him in Chemistry class. He seemed nice enough and no one else loomed on the horizon.
John took the bait and asked me out on a first date. We went to the movies, all went well and the precious prom date was proffered! I was overjoyed. I already had the dress, shoes, purse…no purchases necessary. Hair appointment, check! So much excitement, left school early that day for hair, home for make-up, John showed up for the obligatory photos and off we went for dinner. I felt like Cinderella going to the ball. We danced with the best of the them, but it had been a long day.
We were invited to a post-prom party with several other couples at Debbie’s, one of my best friends, who happened to live in my neighborhood. But after starting the day early at school, then the hair appointment and all the other prom excitement, I just ran out of gas and really did turn into Cinderella at midnight. John might have thought he was going to get some action that night, but I demurred and begged off. I couldn’t stay awake. For all his expense, he got a quick goodnight kiss at the door and my prom night was over. My hair was still fairly intact the next day and my dad took a few more photos of me alone outside in my backyard…couldn’t waste the hairdo.
Senior year was almost over and John barely spoke to me again. But at least I got to the prom.
Moving Poem
So I am thinking…
I need to look at everything
in this house that
holds 31 years of marriage
and two grown children’s
archives,
and ask this
51 year old
almost single
self
what do you need?
Which books of 5 full book cases
do you have to have near you?
Which wall hanging/photos
are touchstones of your
equilibrium and peace?
How to condense
whole phrases
into power words…
OH…
A poem.
The apartment is lovely
but a 4th of what a house holds.
And I know it is good
I know my closets
and shelves and dressers
are brim full of
Yes, but-clothes
Yes, but its missing a button
Yes, but its too tight around here
Yes but I have no shoes to go with it.
As I survey for
the essential
I realize how over-stuffed
my existence is
with things
and photos
and art
and momentos
and on the other side
of this somewhat
painful, slicing
process
is
truer, crisper
Freedom.