Old Fashioned Is Always In Fashion

I am solidly old-fashioned.

Nothing better to me than a sharpened, yellow number two pencil and a spiral bound notebook.  I like the Slinky, red lifesavers, manual umbrellas, shredded wheat, PF Flyers, and acoustic guitars. I would rather watch a good episode of Leave It to Beaver followed by Mister Ed and Ozzie and Harriet than any of today’s new-fangled reality TV shows.    I buy a new broom at the local broom-corn festival each year and use it to sweep the garage floor over using an electric shopvac to complete the same task.  A month ago, I bought a case of glass bottled SKI soda – an old-fashioned thirst quenching classic.

Old fashioned stuff is durable.  I have owned . . . and I still use . . . the same grey metal, non-mechanical three hold punch gadget since the late 1970s.   I am not saying that I use it daily, but it hasn’t collected much dust over the years, and it’s in perfect condition.  And forget the all-in-one Black and Decker laser level that has twenty additional functions beyond maintaining a straight line, my household is the proud owner of a 30-year-old red three-foot steel version.  It’s just a level – no bells and whistles – that has been dropped off many ladders, left out in the great outdoors for days, and often lost in a crowded garage.  Yet, it still works.

Proudly, I have only owned one rolling-pin though I have owned several kitchens; I have had the same key ring for a couple of decades; and, I am a one jewelry box per lifetime type of gal. Keep in mind that all of this has nothing to do with being frugal.  It has more to do with just liking things they way they were. Old-fashioned.

Same for my language.  Sure, I could use all of the latest and greatest lingo, including the more salty versions of yesterday’s banned language.  But, I still stick with the tried and true slang that has helped to get me to this point without too much trouble.  Groovy, righteous, awesome or bumble head, holy guacamole, yikes – multipurpose old-fashioned words that seem to fit well into all kinds of conversations.

And I have found that old-fashioned almost always equals crazy funny.  One of my relatives fixed and ate a fried bologna sandwich at my house recently.  For those of you who have not had the experience, fried bologna is an ancient delicacy first created by . . . probably Mr. Oscar Mayer himself in some long ago century.  Thirty seconds in a skillet, paired with white bread and catsup, this sandwich is a comedic display of old-fashioned in motion.  It is a chuckler!

And no game is as crazy funny as good old-fashioned Spoons.  Honestly, I have played several of today’s XBOX/WII/KINECT 3D video games, and they are fun.  But, Spoons!!! Played with a deck of cards, a handful of spoons and a bunch of crazy funny relatives, this game reaches deep into the crazy funny well. No laughs greater than when full-grown kissin’ cousins jump over a table to pull coveted spoons out of challengers’ hands during a family ‘friendly’ version of this game.  Another old-fashioned chuckler.

I often tell myself that I don’t understand the lure of the old-fashioned for me . . . that this old-fashioned fascination is a mystery.  But, when I really think about it, I know for sure that the draw towards old-fashioned isn’t simply due to a preference for card games, or food, or language, or frugality.  It’s more than that.

With every generation, there seems to be a strong penchant for change . . . from clothing styles . . . to modes of transportation . . . to energy sources . . . to an endless list of activities and items that have been reinvented, improved, changed.  Life today is significantly different from life in any other moment in time. Certainly, almost all changes have  been positive and welcomed and for the betterment of all humankind.

Yet, there is a part of life that I believe should remain constant . . . a part of life that should be considered a masterpiece, a part that should somehow be exempt from change.  Certainly that includes the lapping sounds of the ocean waves and the majesty of the highest mountain peaks.  It includes the freedom enjoyed by animals in the wild and the beauty each year of summer, fall, winter, and spring.  It includes quiet skies and peaceful meadows.  I know it includes the brilliance and genius of those who have gone before us along with the brilliance and genius of those who are still in our future.

Thus, however, explains my penchant for everything old-fashioned.

I may have to change the form of my telephone from a hard-wired, LAN line cordless system plugged into the wall to a cellphone carried in my coat pocket.  I may have to heat my home with solar, geothermal, and/or wind rather than the current fossil fuels available.  And I may have to give up the tried and true General Mills Wheaties – the breakfast of champions – for a more nutritious protein bar option.

But, for those few things that I can somehow manage to hold constant, I am on-board.

Bring on potato pancakes and King Bing bars.  Give me a pile of leaves and hand me a rake complete with a wooden handle and steel prongs.  Let me haul out box after box of old crazy funny holiday decorations that have lasted multiple decades because they were made in the days of the giants.

Finally, hand me a dented red level to keep me headed on the straight and narrow any day of the week.  And watch my willingness to change grow as I find comfort in keeping some things . . . just a few old-fashioned things . . . in my life constant.

The Rocky Mountains . . . An Old-Fashioned Constant

Those Sunday Afternoon Movies

“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow.”

Yikes!  I can listen to that phrase all day long and the meaning still eludes me. Once again, this past weekend, I watched Finding Forrester, a simple little movie – great to watch on a cold, cloudy, rainy Sunday afternoon. The concept of the movie is fairly straightforward – an intergenerational plot, a growing friendship, a coming of age for both main characters, with classic good versus evil activity.  I’ve watched these types of movies before (Searching for Bobby Fischer, About a Boy, Mona Lisa Smile, Dead Poets Society), but I haven’t ever plucked out that one line that seems to be speaking to me in a bigger way.

“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow.”

This weekend, a gentleman, age 89, died in my home town.  I did not know him all that well; however, he was a neighbor many, many years ago and we were members of the same church.  I know his children and grandchildren.  My children know his children and grandchildren. I know his friends and acquaintances.  In fact, it is fair to say that he knew quite a percentage of the folks in my small town, and people knew him. He made the world a better place working, spending a lifetime, at a local university as a faculty member.  He used his mind to make my life better.

And today, I learned that a gentleman, age 81, – a friend of mine – died while living and working in Rome.  He was devoted to working with those in need and did so throughout his career as a Catholic priest.  Most recently, he was working at the Vatican’s North American College. Retirement was not in his vocabulary as I am quite sure that he didn’t think of himself as employed.  More likely he thought of himself as busy on a day to day basis.  And if I were asked to explain his work, my best description would be working to smooth out the path for me and those who follow.

“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow.”

The list of folks who are ‘at rest’, who have gone before me, and who have added to the ease at which I live is endless.  . . . Mother Teresa . . . Abraham Lincoln . . . Sacagawea . . . Mohandas Gandhi . . . Martin Luther King, Jr. . . . Susan B. Anthony . . . Pope John Paul II . . . the 89 year old . . . the 81 year old . . . all of my relatives and friends . . .  Each person on my list has managed to make a difference, to leave an imprint, right a wrong, change the world.  Each person on my list probably knew that they were changing the world, but humility in all things entered their pictures first.  Their focus was on others, not on themselves.

And I suppose the big guess that all of them have left me with is whether or not I am capable of doing for others what they have done for me.  Can I help bring world attention to poverty and suffering like Mother Teresa?  Can I walk the footsteps of Lincoln and right the injustices of slavery by effectively leading a new and emerging nation?  Or, like Sacagawea, can I change the nation’s view on the rights and status of women in a native culture?  Or like the 89 and 81 year olds on my list, affect enough change that upon death, the world trembles? With each person on my list, the size of the shoes to fill increases exponentially beyond my comprehension.

“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow.”

I guess in my piece of the world, I have to give up the expectation that the rest of those who have gone before me will steady me.  It was not and should not be their intention to provide a worry-free atmosphere here on earth.  It was not and should not be their plan to not only make the world a better place but to eliminate the need for my continued effort in the future.  It was not and should not be their legacy to create worldly perfection.

Rather all is unsteady and I suppose that is the beauty of it all.  It is natural for tomorrow to bring unrest.   It is natural for tomorrow to bring uncertainty.  And in my experience it is natural for tomorrow to bring more questions than yesterday had answers.

“The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow.”

Originally, I thought spending a Sunday afternoon watching a little known film while everyone around me was scrambling to complete a laundry list of chores was a bit brazen on my part.  My body was telling me to jump up and dust something, but my mind was – as usual with this film – otherwise engaged.

I am not sure that I learned anything new; rather, I was once again pulled through a refresher on what I have always known.  Changing the world isn’t easy, but it is doable.  To top is off, changing the world is an expectation that I should have of myself; and, throughout my change the world journey, I best hold on tight as the ride – no matter how much fun it contains, how exciting it can truly be, and what I may or may not learn along the way – is going to be quite a rocky one.

The July Moon

A July moon resting in the summer sky.