Start Thinking About . . .
. . . resolutions for the New Year.
Last year, at a brief transcendental rite involving writing a word of resolve on a small white stone, I chose “Listen.”
This year’s feels like it’s going to be a bit more complicated but haven’t picked one yet. So, maybe more later.
How Times Have Changed . . .
. . . really hit my tablemate during his Christmas Day dinner with family.
When he was growing up, he faked his age as under 11 until he was 16 so he could ride trains and buses on a child’s fare.
During his festival visit with the relatives, he heard his 14-year-old grandson brag about getting his driver’s license so he could drive his family’s car by faking his age as 16.
‘Twas a couple of days before Christmas
When the old guys were talking
About how they looked forward
To filling a stocking.
The conversation ran into a wall
When somehow cost became the topic
And no one could recall
What that had to do with the subject.
Through the mumbling and jumbling
And a bit of sputtering, too
The matter at hand came tumbling through,
“It’s Christmas you fools,”
Commented – er, shouted — an old fart,
“Whether its toys or tools,
It should come from your heart.”
Curiosity Can Be Costly . . .
. . . paying good money to see how fast a horse can run has chewed up a lot of fortunes.
Give Yourself a Few Thousand Dollars a Year
This is for those of you who are members of a household with two or more cars.
You can gift yourself more than $9,000 a year, because that’s the average cost of auto
ownership, according to an American Automobile Association report.
As a neighbor commented, “That buys a whole lotta cab rides.”
Your car payments, interest on those payments, insurance, maintenance, gasoline, tires,
repairs, parking, license, depreciation and other auto-allied costs may not amount to that. Maybe
they’re more than that.
Doing a bit of arithmetic should be enlightening.
If you still have a job, check out the public transit-system service to and from the work site. Most urbanites live within half a mile — about a 10-minute walk — of a bus, trolley, or subway stop.
Public transit in most cities is likely faster than motorists’ commute time during rush hours
getting to and from work.
If you think it’s too far to walk to nearest transit stop, get a bicycle. Most transportation systems are equipped to allow bikes on board or on racks. And most stations have facilities for locking bikes.
If this is unworkable, see if carpooling is an option. If you go to a gymnasium regularly or to a particular restaurant or hangout or to regular service-club luncheons, check with those around you for rides. When all else fails, take a cab.
Remember, too, that you still have a car in the family. You’re only selling one, yours or your spouse’s.
If you’re no longer tied to an office or other workplace, the problem is much simpler.
Think about when you need a car and where you need to get to. You can take public transit to
sports events or for doctor or dentist appointments. Cabs are at the ready and your other
family car is your backup.
You’ll still use this vehicle to get groceries, visit relatives and go on motoring vacations.
The money you save can be used to pay off credit-card debt or to buy yourself goodies
you’ve always wanted. And you don’t have to do all the driving.
Aging is a Great Education . . .
. . . when we were in our 20s, we told ourselves we didn’t give a damn what the world thinks of us.
It took us all this time to find out they weren’t even thinking about us at all.
White Elephant . . .
. . . comes to mind during this season of gift-giving.
Legend says the origin is rooted in the kingdom of Siam, modern-day Thailand, when the king would present a white elephant to anyone around him who displeased him.
These animals were considered sacred so they could not be killed, nor could they be re-gifted since they were a present from the king. This meant you had to feed this beast, which could weight up to 12 tons, up to 600 pounds of food every day.
So if you didn’t have endless means, a white elephant meant it could be end of you.
Nostalgia to Now
By Tom Morrow
When you reach that momentous eighth set of 10-year periods you figure it’s okay to doze off in front of the TV set. Speaking of which, do you remember when it took at least two to three minutes for the TV to warm up. How many of you sat watching the test pattern before the day’s programming began? Or watched the Air Force fly-bys as the “Star Spangled Banner” was played to end the day’s programming.
In Middle-West America, Dad always left the keys to the family car in the ignition and some family homes were never locked. Everything America seemed to change after President John F. Kennedy was assassinated and we went to war in Vietnam.
Where I grew up, nobody owned a purebred dog.
A quarter was a decent weekly allowance and Mom wore nylons that came in two pieces. You got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking … all for free every time you filled up. If you bought premium (also known as “Ethel”) you got your floor boards swept out with a small whisk broom. If your tires needed a check, you didn’t pay for any pumped air. And sometime you got trading stamps.
Laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels included inside the box.
At school, being sent to the principal’s office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited you at home. Teachers kept kids back a grade if they were failing.
We played softball with no adults around to help with the rules of the game.
Most of us kids were in fear for our lives, but it wasn’t because of drive-by shootings, drugs, or gangs. It was for fear of getting polio or the Russians dropping “the bomb.”
Decisions were made by going “eeny-meeny-miney-moe.’ Consumables from the drug store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger.
Home milk delivery was in glass bottles with cardboard stoppers, newsreels were shown before the movie, and telephone numbers had a word prefix…(Blackburn 5-2857).
Didn’t it feel good to recall those days?
A Skilled Conversationalist . . .
. . . is someone who’s learned
how to keep
their foot out of their mouth.
Mature Life Features 