Then: Princess Phones Now iPhones

Posted on June 24, 2011 by janie

Then:  Princess Phones



Now:  iPhones


The day my mom gave me my very own princess phone, was one of the happiest days of my life.  Imagine that?  A simple pink phone with a rotary dial and I was in heaven.  It wasn’t even my own private number, but the same one shared by the entire family.  It had a long extension cord so that I was able to move around my room, but that was as far as I could go with it.  Not into the kitchen.  Not into the backyard.  Not into my car.  And certainly not to the mall.

But it was a symbol of independence.  I could stay in my room now and talk, without anyone listening to my conversations.  Or so I thought.  My sister soon learned that if she unscrewed the mouthpiece on her new Princess phone, she could listen in on my conversations without me hearing her breathing.
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Minutes after my conversation ended, she’d appear in my doorway and start teasing me.  “So you were kissing the back of your hand (smack, smack) for practice with Johnny.  First he has to ask you out, you know.”  She’d say all this with a look in her eye that justified getting a sock thrown at her face.  Then she’d run down the hall with me on her heels.

These arguments always ended up with us hugging and kissing and promising never to listen in again.  Until the next time.  And usually the next time, I was listening in on her.

When I showed my daughter this prized Princess phone, she looked at me like I was crazy.  So? she said, whipping out her new iPhone.  This is something to be excited about!  It has everything simply by touching the screen.  She wasn’t kidding.

These new phones are way more than Alexander Graham Bell ever imagined.  Lost?  Touch the GPS mapping icon.  Want a favorite song?  Press the iPod.  Bored?  Play iBowl.   Having a hot flash?  Check WeatherBug for the temperature in Iceland.  Want to capture the moment?  Use the camera.  Running late?  Email the office.  Oh, and yes, you can call someone.  Because don’t forget, after all, it is a phone.

As she showed me all these features, I started to imagine what would be next.  Where would technology take us?  Maybe we could simply touch our thumbs to the screen and our phones will be able to read our moods and know what we’d like for dinner.  This information will then be transmitted to our kitchens where R2D2 (or your robot of choice) would make the meal and have it on the table for you when you get home.

“You want to put this old thing on ebay?” My daughter asked, pulling me out of my futuristic dreams.  “I can do it for you right now.”  She positioned her iPhone to take a photo of my Princess phone.

“Absolutely not!” I said, pressing the old phone to my chest.  I knew that somewhere inside this phone were all those conversations, both mine and my sister’s, from long ago.

You don’t need a memory stick to keep memories alive.

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THEN: FATHER NOW: FATHER

Posted on June 18, 2011 by janie

THEN:  FATHER

 

NOW:  FATHER

 

 

When I was growing up, my father brought in the bacon.  All of it.  He went to work every morning at 6:00 and came home every evening around 5:30.  When he walked in the door after a hard day at the office, my mom handed him a cocktail, the newspaper and a slice of rye bread.  (Don’t ask.  I’m not sure why he wanted this, unless of course, it was a symbol of being the bread winner.) For the next half hour he would sit and relax while my mom finished making dinner and my sister and I set the table.

I guess you’d say he was a lot like Ward Cleaver or Jim Anderson on “Father Knows Best.”  And back then I believed he did know best.  After all, he was the man of the house.  My father.

This routine lasted for many, many years until my sister and I started high school,  at which time our mom wanted to go to work.  Not so much for the money.  But how many times can you change the bedding, scrub the toilets, rearrange the pantry, or play golf in one week?

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My father wasn’t exactly like good old Archie, but when it came to the boys his girls were bringing home, he could be quite judgmental.  After all, he had once been a teenage boy and he knew how boys could act toward girls.  When their daughters start dating it must be a scary time for fathers.  And of course, as a teenage girl, I knew my father did NOT know what was best for me!

Some of my boy friends were definitely  “undesirables”  in my father’s eyes.  In looking back, I can’t say as I blame him.  With only two daughters, he had five son-in-laws.  So, I guess he had reason to be concerned.

Let’s not forget the time he had to bail me out of jail. (Nothing serious) The many months when he wondered when I was going to get on with my life after I came back from Europe.  And what the heck was I doing with my college degree.  Of course, I was wondering that same thing myself.

So, eventually I went to find who I was in life, with the security of always knowing where to find my father.  In his workshop.  Throughout the years he was always building something.  From gigantic wall units, to roll-top desks to rocking horses.  In the recent past,  he turned to small wooden objects such as stamp holders, bagel tongs and boxes with secret openings.  Sometimes he actually made me guess the object that he had  made.

But I never have to guess how much he loves me.  And of all the things he’s built, the best is the strong foundation upon which my sister and I lived for many years. Until the time came for us to build lives of our own.

He won’t read this column online, because at ninety, he’s not that adept at computers.  But I know my mom will print it up and give it to him.

These days, my father’s world is getting smaller.  Yet, in my world, his presence is bigger than ever.

And I’ve since learned one truth:  My father really does know best.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY to all the wonderful fathers in our lives.

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THEN: INDIAN PRINT NOW: FOOTPRINT

Posted on June 11, 2011 by janie

Then:  Indian Print

 

Now:   Footprint



 

 

When I was in college my roommate and I covered our couches with Indian print bedspreads.  We hung beads in the doorway and painted a florescent peace sign on them.  I wore Indian print blouses, long beaded earrings and flowery headbands.  We marched for the causes we thought were important, showing the world who we were and what we stood for.

 

Of course we were conscious of our own little world, too.  After all we had dirty clothes to wash, sociology tests to pass, and fraternity parties to go to.

 

But we were also aware of the big picture.  Of the impact we were making on this earth.

 

In today’s lingo, that would be referred to as one’s Footprint.
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In terms of carbon it means the total amount of green house gas emissions caused directly by one’s actions.

In terms of ecological it refers to the measure of human demand on the Earth’s ecosystems.

 

In either sense of the word, it boils down to how we are affecting the planet.

 

Back then we weren’t measuring every move we made.  We just made them.

 

Because the earth’s resources are now running low and everyone is talking “green” this and “green” that, our lives are being scrutinized. Unfairly at times because one’s economic situation affects how we live.

 

What I’d like to think is that everyone is doing the best they can.

 

I recycle all my wine and vodka bottles.  Even on the hottest days when my hot flashes are the most intense, I try not to keep the air conditioner on too much.  And I try to turn off the lights after leaving a room, but sometimes a “senior moment” interferes with my thinking.

 

But at the end of the day, when I cuddle up with my Indian print blanket and reflect back on my actions, I’d like to  think that I’ve left a pretty decent Footprint for the historians of tomorrow.

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Then: Goo Goo Eyes Now: Googlize

Posted on June 2, 2011 by janie

Then:  Goo Goo Eyes


 

Now:  Googlize


 

 

While writing a scene the other day, I had one of my older characters mention that girls used to oogle after him and give him “goo-goo” eyes.  I immediately thought of today’s teens and how they had probably never heard that expression:  “goo goo” eyes – meaning an amorous, inviting glance.

In fact, if you mention “goo goo” or “oogle” to anyone under twenty they probably think that you are an “out-of-touch” older person who doesn’t know what you are talking about.  For of course, you must have been referring to Google. Not!
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In case you didn’t know, Google came about by a spelling error.  In 1996, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, both students at Stanford University, founded the search engine.  They had decided on the name googol, meaning a large number of things.  While searching for the domain name, Sergey Brin misspelled the word and typed in Google. And there you have it.

And what we have is a very powerful search engine,  enabling us to look at the world differently than ever before.  With just the click of our fingers, we can look up anything from the Alaskan whaling industry to the mating habits of Zebras and everything in between

When I was in school we used the encyclopedia, World Book and Funk and Wagnalls being the most popular. (Remember those?)  Each year we received an updated edition in the mail.  If not for the Internet, we would still be getting these updates and I wonder where in the world we would be keeping all those books?  As it is, I’m running out of shelf space.

Although, I do feel a slight pang at the loss of one of the world’s greatest professions: the Encyclopedia Salesman.  It took guts, a good pair of shoes and a thick skin to walk door to door selling something that everyone needed but couldn’t always afford to buy: knowledge.

With Google we now get knowledge quicker than ever before.  And we also get another commodity that we humans thrive on: the human interest story.  Especially those involving famous people.  Why, the day Michael Jackson died,  Google actually ran a bit slow.  Within nanoseconds, Tweets, Facebook chats , IM’s and emails flooded Cyberspace, showing us how powerful the Internet really is.

Kids of today can’t picture a world without it.  Imagine having to wait until the Nightly News to get information.  How horrible that must have been?  How did we ever survive?

Well, we did okay.  But, believe me, I’m happy for the Internet.  These days, I couldn’t live without it.  I’m always Googling up, looking for an obscure fact or the meaning of some word.

But then I’m just as happy to use the library or buy a good reference book at the bookstore.

And the face-to-face contact does one have one major advantage over the Internet.  I can always make “goo goo eyes” at the helpful librarian.

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THEN: SHOW YOUR ID NOW: ENTER USER ID

Posted on May 24, 2011 by janie

THEN:  SHOW YOUR ID


 

NOW:  ENTER USER ID


 

 

The older I get the less I seem to remember.  And yet, it seems there are more things to remember today than ever before.

Years ago, the standard questions on forms included your name, address, and telephone number (home & work.)  Some paperwork required your social security number and a driver’s license.  That was pretty much it.  I’ve always remembered my social security number, but to this day I still don’t have my license number memorized.  I mean, why?  It’s with me all the time.

Today, additional questions include cell phone numbers and email addresses.  Well, that much I can handle.  It seems that my brain cells associated with that data are still functioning.
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It’s remembering all those other things, like Usernames, ID’s, Passwords and URLs that send me over the edge.  I’m constantly scattering papers all over the place in search of that valuable information.  Where did I put that secret code?  What’s the answer to my security question?   What IS my security question?

These are important things that I’m supposed to remember.  Or at least remember where I wrote them down.  But if we‘re supposed to be paperless, why am I writing this information down on a piece of paper in the first place?  Shouldn’t they be on my hard drive somewhere?

Being a User in this electronic age is much more complicated than when I was a User in days gone by. As child of the sixties, you can imagine what I may have been a “user” of.

Now the term User ID refers to the name you type into that diagonal box on your screen so that you can then get the next all important question:  What’s your password?

Password.  Like saying please to an elderly relative so that she’ll let you pass by.  What’s the password?- my grandmother used to ask.

But, at least, she was forgiving.  If I didn’t know it, she would let me by anyway.

Now, if I type in the wrong password three times, I get a threatening message and sometimes I’m locked out from that all important site and have to resort to making a phone call.  Where I invariably get that annoying voicemail and have to try a few times to get someone who can remedy the situation.

And by then, half the time I’ve forgotten why I wanted to go there in the first place.

So, unless absolutely necessary I now use the same password for everything, which my computer techie tells me is not a good thing.  And some sites won’t allow my usual word.  Some want six letters, five numbers, one capital, two symbols, and the world wide rights to my life story.

No wonder I can’t remember!  How about you?

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Then: Minimum Wage Now: Minimal Existence

Posted on May 17, 2011 by janie

Then: Minimum Wage


For Sale:  $20,500

Now: Minimal Existence


For Sale:  $25,000

$1.25 an hour.  Wow.  I was making money.   It was 1964 and I had my very first job working at Travel Town in Griffith Park.  It didn’t matter that I was scared to death that first morning.  Of both working with the public and my very demanding twenty-five-year-old boss.  She was tall, blonde and so much other older than I.  Worldly, sophisticated and she could work the cash register and give out change without having to count on her fingers!

Somehow I make it through that first day and came home to our usual Sunday steak dinner and the Ed Sullivan show.  I sat across the table from my younger sister, knowing that I had passed into a new realm, one that she wouldn’t reach for a few years.  I was little bit more mature.  A little bit full of myself.  But just a little.

That first day on the job gave me a taste of the future.  A future I wanted to jump into, but one I was still a little afraid of.  Of course, my parents told me not to worry.  And to remember to always save for a rainy day.  But what did they know?

As the summer passed, my bank account grew and the fear of that first morning fell away with my adolescence.

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The difference is the minimum wage has increased significantly.  It is now $7.25.  Which is about a 580% increase.

But in relation to the costs of everyday items such as postage stamps which have gone from .05 cents to .44 cents (an 880 percent increase) and gas which sky rocketed from .30 to over $4.00 (1,000 percent) the minimum wage has barely caught up.

Cars today cost what a home did back then.  Back then the average yearly income would qualify for today’s low income housing.

But then some things haven’t gone up that much and actually are coming down, with the economy the way it is.  Milk averaged $1.06 in 1964 and has only increased about 100% and the same goes for eggs and bread.

But who can live on eggs and bread alone?

Today’s young adults not only face the fear of entering the workplace but of finding jobs where they can actually support themselves.

I guess if I knew back then what I know now, I’d have planned better for my future.  But as young adults we know everything, don’t we?

It’s not until we get to be much older that we realize how smart our parents are.  It’s not until we turn into them, that we realize they were right all along.

So, the cost of living may have gone up 1,000% but one thing that hasn’t changed is the parent/child relationship.

It’s still based on 100% love.

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THEN: AMBUSH NOW: AMBUSHED

Posted on May 12, 2011 by janie

THEN:  AMBUSH

 

NOW:  AMBUSHED

 

I went perfume shopping the other day.  Okay, I’ll confess.  I wasn’t actually shopping for a scent to spray upon my hot flashing skin, but that’s where I ended up.  At the perfume counter in Bloomies, with a very nice saleslady well versed in the historical, sociological, psychological and physiological theories of perfume.

As it turns out, buying perfume is not as easy as it used to be.

My daughter knew exactly what she was looking for.  And so, like daughter, like mother, I decided I would buy the same bottle.  Why not?  I don’t have a favorite brand and my daughter does have good taste.  Not to mention expensive, but that’s another story.

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Well, if  that’s the case, then back in high school,  I along with everyone else I knew committed a huge “perfume faux pas” as we all wore the same scent: Ambush.   Which is described as a sharp, oriental, woody scent.  With a blend of lavender, jasmine, oakmoss, sandalwood and patchouli accompanied by fruity notes of fresh citrus, melons, peaches and plums.

We seemed to be just fine with this.  I was never confused as to who I was and never mistaken for someone else.  Although, it would have been nice if my crush did think I was one of the popular cheerleaders.  At least for a day or back then I would have even settled for a few hours.

But back to my current dilemma – finding a fragrance to call my own.  This entailed being ambushed with a  questionnaire the likes of those meme things that go around the Internet.  What’s my favorite smell?  Am I a fruity person?  Spicy?  Citrusy?  What scent turns me on?  What smell makes me hungry?  What kind of candle do I burn when taking a bath?  What kind of soap do I prefer?   What element am I – air, earth, fire, water?  What’s my  sign?

Honestly now.  All I wanted was a nice fragrance to mask the sweat which turns the back of my neck into a “slip and slide” and my armpits into a wading pool.

How about a vodka fragrance? I asked.  Or one with a blue cheese olive aroma?  I’d rather smell like I’d been drinking than a locker room.

In the end, I was too confused to buy anything.  And all the different smells, from coffee to chocolate to roses started to affect my thinking.

I left with a few samples.  And with the question zigzagging through my brain – If I were a scent what would it be?

What’s yours?

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Then: Mother Now: Mother

Posted on May 8, 2011 by janie

THEN:  MOTHER


 

 

NOW:  MOTHER

 

1960’s – Someone who wakes up early with a smile on her face.  Think Donna Reed and June Cleaver.  Makes breakfast  for her children and husband.  Makes lunches for her children and husband.  Hands her husband his briefcase and sends him off to work with a kiss.  Walks the kids to the bus stop.  Cleans the house while wearing a nice dress with an apron.  Prepares dinner.  Meets the kids at the bus stop.  Greets her husband with a smile and a cocktail.  Cooks dinner.  Cleans the kitchen.  Goes with to bed with a smile on her face.  Wakes up the next day and does it all over again.  She may have an opinion but the mom of the fifties and sixties understood that Father Knew Best.

I think – No Way could I be that kind of mom.  Well, maybe the staying home part without the apron.

1970’s – As we moved into this decade, the big D became recognized.  Think Bonnie Franklin as Ann Romano.  A single mom raising two girls.  She did all of the above minus the husband.  Thank God for that handyman who lived in the building!

I think – I could maybe do what she did, especially what she did behind closed doors with the handyman.

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I think – I was that mom.

1990’s- Ah…Roseanne.  One of my favorite TV moms of all time.   The Conners were a blue collar family where both parents worked outside the home in order to make ends meet.  And Roseanne met my expectations of a great mom.  She could make me cry and laugh at the same time.

I think – I wish had some of Roseanne’s chutzpah.

2000’s-Today’s TV  moms aren’t even fictional anymore.  The camera has moved into the homes of real families such as it did a few years back with Kate and Jon and their brood of eight kids.

I think  – I’m glad I’m not that mom!

And I think that the mom of today would tell that mom of 1950 what she probably knew all along…Mother Knows Best!

But no matter how much mom has changed from 1950 to the present, she is still the center of the family.  The one the kids turn to for help and understanding.  The one who takes care of the family pet, makes sure there is always those favorite cookies in the pantry and clean clothes in the closet.  The one that always has her shoulder available for a good cry, her arms ready for a hug, and her heart ready to accept this roller coaster ride called motherhood.

I think – I’m glad I am a mother and that I have such a wonderful mother in my life.

HAPPY MOTHER‘S DAY to all you moms out there!

 

 

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Then: Out Of Tape Now: Out Of Power

Posted on May 4, 2011 by janie

THEN: OUT OF TAPE

NOW:  OUT OF POWER

 

The other day I was in the grocery store with a good friend of mine when the power went out.  The lights flickered. Off.  On.  Off.  And then an eerie silence descended on the place.  No swiping of debit cards.  No beeping of bar codes.  No pinging of pin numbers.  There we were, with our cart full of important things such as banana cream puffs and wine, with no way of paying for these precious goods.

You see, without power, the cashier could not read the barcodes.  Without the bar codes the totals couldn’t be calculated.  And without a total, we couldn’t pay.  No computers.  No business.  No good.

My friend offered to pay with a check, for certainly, they would take our money.  But it appears the art of manually adding up numbers has gone the way of the dinosaur.

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Back in the day, the biggest problem would be when the cashier ran out of tape and you had to wait while she figured out how to put in a new one.  That could take several minutes during which you might have tapped your foot, rubbed your arm, complained to the person in line behind you.  But eventually the cashier would get it threaded and she’d be “back in business.”

“Back in business” doesn’t happen as fast when it involves computers.  Special techie people have to be called in.  The problem can be solved in a few minutes –  or not.  Sometimes it can take hours.  Hours during which time the world seems to come to a halt.   Most often the data is retrieved, but once in a while, well, it’s just lost forever.

When I kept papers in a paper file folder inside a real desk and not on a desktop,  it might have taken a few minutes longer to find things, but they never completely disappeared.

Just imagine if the Internet shut down for even a few seconds.  It would be a Withdrawal of Pandemic proportions.

But back to the grocery store.  If you’re wondering, the power outage was an isolated situation and not related to any of our crazy weather situations.   We found another store, loaded up our groceries, paid and went home.  Where we proceeded to drink wine and back up all those really important files (and some not so important ones) on our computer to our memory chips.

Just in case.

What about you?   How obsessive are you when it comes to backing up your files?

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Then: Boy Talk Now: Botox

Posted on April 30, 2011 by janie

THEN:  BOY TALK

 

NOW: BOTOX

 

“How gentle is the rain…”  The song is blasting on the car radio.  I can’t remember who sang it but I can remember exactly what I was doing over forty years ago when it played on the radio of my 1960 Falcon.

 

I’m speeding down San Vincente Blvd with four of my best friends, one in the front seat, three squished in the back, after spending a sun baked day at Sorrento Beach, after hours of flirting with cute teenage guys.  Transistor radios blaring into the warm air.  Baby oil sizzling on our skin.  Turning every fifteen minutes to keep our bodies directly in the sun, in those days when the sun wasn’t bad for you.

I’m speeding down San Vincente Blvd.  I’m not wearing shoes.  We‘re singing at the top of our lungs when in my rear view mirror I see a cop.  Like I said, I’ve been speeding.  He pulls me over and I’m sure I’m going to be double ticketed:  one for speeding, one for not wearing shoes while speeding.

 

I feel that moment now as if it were yesterday.  Seconds into the melody, my cell phone rings.  It’s one of the girlfriends from that San Vincente ride.  She’s practically crying from happiness, talking so fast I can hardly make out her words.  “Quick.  Turn on the radio.  K-Earth.  Guess what’s playing?”

Back then we giggled nervously as the cop pulled us to the side of the road. I pull over now because I can’t see through the tears streaming down my face.
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Tears because so much time has passed since those carefree beach days?  Because I know I can’t go back to those days?  Or is it because after all these years I’m still very much in touch with those friends from those beach days and what could possibly be better?

Nothing.

Sure, we’ve changed throughout the years.  As teenagers, we talked about boys and college.  And then boys again.  Dreaming of life once we entered the “real world.”

In our twenties, some of us started careers.  Some of us started families.  We talked about diapers, sleepless nights, and bosses that just didn’t appreciate our worthiness.  And we did all this from our homes on land lines, since cell phones were still something from SciFi movies.

In our thirties, we yapped about our kids and spent endless hours on hard benches at sporting events.  Even more hours carpooling without the benefit of a phone to connect us to other adults.  We talked about staying in shape.  Panicked at the sigh of a grey hair and God forbid a wrinkle!

As we turned forty, our conversation turned to savings accounts, those for putting our kids through college and for future facelifts.  We cheered at the newly discovered “botox” treatment.  How fabulous to be able to get rid of wrinkles without going under the knife?

 

As we leave our fifties we are using our saving accounts for weddings and those much needed facial treatments.  We chat about hot flashes and night sweats. Our aging parents and our grandchildren.

Soon we will be forty again.  Isn’t “sixty” the new forty?  Only this time around, we’ll be talking about retirement.  Exactly what does that mean?  To retire.  I know that the way things are going, I may work until I’m one hundred.

What will be talking about in the future?  Well, if we can remember, we’ll probably be reminiscing about the past.  But whatever – the good thing is – we will still be talking to each other.

Like I said before.  What could possibly be better?

Nothing.

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