Watching a “Mad Men” episode with my son one day (on Netflix of course), he off-handedly commented that Sally, the daughter of characters Don and Betty Draper, was the same age as me.
“Is this really what it was like when you were growing up?”
Oh, don’t be silly … wait … little mixing of the races, majority of women staying home to raise children, workplaces dominated by men, ash trays everywhere, smoking everywhere, three channels on television and getting dressed up to go to the movies or on an airplane? Yes, it was.
The now cancelled, but wildly popular program, based in the 60s and 70s seems light years removed from today with our instant everything – but it was not even a century ago.
A recent conversation with a co-worker, who is never disconnected from the .WWW, revolved around a new laptop she planned to buy. She rolled her eyes as she recalled her first computer, the one her parents bought when she was 7-years old. How slow it booted up, how grainy the screen, how fat the monitor, how much the whole thing weighed.
I was 35 years old when I bought my first computer.
My youngest son had his fingers on a keyboard before he was in kindergarten.
Me? I took typing classes in high school – senior year.
My peers, my co-workers, most of my friends are retiring. Worse yet, already retired. I can’t imagine being retired.
When I think about retirement I think about my grandfather. He had silver white hair and wore horned rimmed glasses. After retiring from Chevrolet, he took a job at a local gas station.
He got up every morning to put on a white shirt with his name embroidered over the breast pocket. He’d snap on his ruby colored bow tie and spend a few hours each day pumping gas, wiping windshields and asking: “Check your oil?”
I remember listening to my grandfather dismiss “today’s music.”
“It’s not like the music we listened to, you can’t understand a word that Mick Jagger is saying.”
Of course, now, Mick Jagger is 72.
When did this happen? When did I cross that invisible line becoming someone who sees more years in her past than years ahead. I never wanted to be one of those adults who yearned for the years gone by. I want to look forward, not back.
And honestly, the way technology is advancing, I could live to be 135 years old. And in that case, I’m barely middle-aged.
I prefer looking forward vs. looking back. I like listening to new music, even when I can’t understand all the words.
Still, once in a while I’d like to hear those magic words.
“Fill ‘er up? Check your oil?”
Photo credit: Michael Saechang
Yes, it really was like that. Love your columns.
Thank you! Sometimes I’m shocked at just how far back I can look. 🙂
You hit it on the head, Brenda. I find it challenging to look forward instead of recounting the “old days” as I age.
Reminiscing becomes easier than speculation. I’m just trying to keep an equal amount of each.
Your columns are great!
Speaking of “dressing up” to go to the movies or on an airplane, my parents (who would have been 93 years old) always dressed up to drive down M-15 to the Tiger baseball games. Mom said the ladies wore dresses, hats, gloves, and high heels to match their purses! “Sunday best” is what we called it.
Looking ahead is a great thing for many of you, and I agree that advances in medicine are amazing!
As for me, the time goes by so fast–too fast! Our babies go from 6 months to 6 years almost in the blink of an eye! Sometimes I long for summers of the 50’s and early 60’s; they seemed to last forever! We sat in the library for hours, had lemonade stands, put on carnivals, played dress-up, had roller skates with “keys” , transistor radios and so much more.
That’s what I think of when I think summer — all those hours outside just filling up the time with imagination until it was time to come in when the street lights came on.
I intend to retire January 1, with vacation and holidays Dec. 15 should be my last day at GM. I feel like I did in 1984, (exited US Army Jan. 1985), or 1978 when high school graduation was looming. Nothing wrong with looking back as long as you are still looking forward. Retirement is not the end of the road, it’s the beginning of a new one. I don’t want to hear it when people tell me I need a plan going forward,.
Looking back is good, I didn’t need NO STINKIN’N PLANS. I need time to feel free until I figure out what I’m going to do next.
I love that – no stinkin’ plans! Good for you. Some day it will be my turn. Enjoy it!
Thanks Brenda, I returned to Flint shortly after your column began and enjoyed it. No kids so skipped over many sacharine parts.