Good Morning.
I miss the postcards that people used to pick up at a drugstore and send to their friends and relatives who were not, despite sentiments penned to the contrary, on vacation with them. Vacations and virtually every other budget item were paid for,
of course, in cash or with travelers' checks because credit cards were non-existent except for American Express and Diner's Club that executives used to entertain their clients.
I miss the way people traveled to get wherever they were going. Flying was a treat, not a nightmare, and passengers had leg room and a decent meal, even in coach. Trains, another pleasant way to get somewhere, were on time. Driving was also okay except that cars weren't air-conditioned and neither were a lot of hotels and restaurants. The anti-dote to being uncomfortably warm was a cold rag and a fan or a scoop of hard ice cream in a sugar cone at a drugstore that sold postcards.
I have other complaints, petty as they may seem. I miss the milkman who brought a bottle or two to the back door. That was when houses had a front porch and a garage in back. This business of having to hunt for a front door that is blocked from view by a three-car garage is foolish and so are the televisions mounted over a fireplace. A proper mantel should have a painting or a mirror so a fire can be enjoyed in peace. Quiet is a good thing, including at a lake that should provide a lovely escape with sailboats, canoes, and rowboats for fishing. Water skiing is one thing but making noise for the sake of making it is unfortunate.
There are so-called advancements and trends that are also questionable, including the item called a selfie. These people who constantly snap pictures of themselves seem rather at odds with those of us who worry about not being worthy of a photo taken by anyone. Fast food is convenient and tastes incredibly good, given the fat and salt content, but it has clearly contributed to the decline of more leisurely meals with people who are, hopefully, not texting and babbling away on a cell phone and taking pictures of the Cobb salad and dessert with the carefully drizzled sauce to send to 2000 people they've never met. A friend is a person with whom you have something called a relationship. You have talked to this person face-to-face, attended his or her wedding, been a guest in his or her home, and listened to this person after he or she got fired by a creepy boss or dumped by a misguided lover.
And now a few things that are best gone for good, starting with home permanents that women used to give each other in the kitchen. They smelled like a chemistry lab and seldom came out the way they looked on the box. Older women used a rinse that turned their gray hair a vague sort of blue, hence the term blue hairs that was not a compliment. I am also pleased, with certain reservations, about the invention of panty hose. Nylon stockings were formerly affixed to a contraption with little tabs on it, although a single stocking from a pair could be combined with a single stocking from another pair while a run anywhere on a set of panty hose means the entire mess has to be thrown out. Of course the easiest solution is to go barefoot even when wearing a shoe. It's not good for the shoe, but every woman alive knows that the best moment of the day is when she has extracted her fine self from any form of hosiery. The removal of a necktie is simply not the equivalent for reasons
best left alone here.
Best regards,
Elisabeth
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