Technology and mail

Alan and I were talking about technology and thinking about what it would have been like when we were "courting" via the US and Kenya mail systems if we had been so fortunate to have e-mail and cell phones and e-mail with web cams, etc.

Did that absence from each other and that waiting for those letters make our hearts grow fonder? Might that not have happened had we been able to "see" each other every day, and even talk to each other via the Internet? I don't know.

We do remember, though at the 1964 World's Fair -- which was held in New York City -- that picture phones were an idea Ma Bell (that was before the break-up of the monopoly) proposed to the Fair goers. One would go into a room, and then a buddy would go into another room, and they would be able to see each other on a monitor and use the phone at the same time. It was nothing like holding a cell phone in front of one's face and smiling for the phone camera so that the person on the other end, should that person be fortunate enough to have a phone with the camera or receiver in the set, could see the person talking to them.

No, technology back in the 60s was nothing like it is today. I'm glad in a way that Alan and I went through the angst of waiting for those air-grams. I'm glad I had to walk to the Post Office twice a day, hoping against hope that the blue letter would be waiting for me. In actuality I was lucky if there was one letter for me from Alan once a month. He wasn't a good writer. I wrote to him almost every day, sending him two or three letters a week. Each air-gram cost 12 cents -- that was the cost for overseas air-mail.

Do they even have air mail any more? I suppose all mail is now air mail, but back in the 50s and 60s air mail was something special and you paid extra for it. If you wanted something to get to California from Philadelphia in three days or less, you paid to have it sent air mail. Today, anything mailed from Philly, arrives in California the next day and is then sorted for delivery on the second day.

Today, I can send a letter to my daughter who lives in Indiana on Wednesday and she has it on Thursday. It wasn't like that when I was growing up and becoming a young woman. Even mail to the northern part of New Jersey from South Jersey took at least two, probably three days. You always counted on an extra day, so if I sent a letter to someone in North Jersey, I expected it wouldn't be there for four days. A letter sent from Runnemede to Bellmawr (the next town up the pike) might get there the next day.

You see sorting wasn't like it is now. We didn't have zip codes until the mid-60s. I remember working for a Philadelphia law firm, and we always wanted the mail to get there a.s.a.p. That meant first class to Philadelphia, Special Delivery to towns that weren't within the air-mail limits. And Air Mail to everyone else. No faxes back then either. In fact, xerox copiers were just coming into vogue and the law firm had one, but it couldn't be used for anything except inter-office mail. Courts did NOT accept xerox copies of anything back then. Only carbon copies were accepted by the courts.

Even in the late 60s/early 70s, copiers were more readily available, but Alan still had to hand in carbon copies of his master's thesis. The committee would not accept a xerox copy. I say xerox because that was the first company to really get hold of the copying market. And you didn't say I need a copy of this or that, you said you needed a xerox of this or that.

So, I thought you might like to know about this. It isn't a five-mile walk in snow uphill to get to school story, but it is a story about what it was like before all this technology came along. Life was much, much simpler then, but somethings were made much simpler for you folks today.

Storms

We've had two days of non-stop thunder storms -- big ones, storms with hail, tornadoes. In fact the storms have been so bad that on Tuesday night no programs on the "big 4" TV stations were on because it was more important to get the weather information to the watchers than for the watchers to know who got booted off Hell's Kitchen. NOT@!!!!


Does anyone know who got the boot? I even watched the news on the channel following the weather warnings, and they didn't even tell us who it was.

I'm thinking -- my life is my life controlled by who gets booted off a reality show? I don't think it is, but if I am able to watch the program, which was last night, I really don't need five channels telling me the same thing -- get to your basement if live in Moscow (Ohio, or was it Indiana?) there's a tornado in your area. You will hear the sirens, that means you are having a severe thunderstorm and might have a tornado.

I've lived out here long enough now to know the signs. The sky gets green -- it was green most of the morning this morning, and most of the tonight -- and the wind blows. It hails, then the wind gets worse, and then you have a tornado. The sirens go off somewhere in there, and then you head for the basement. What basement? We don't have a basement. We have a closet under the stairwell, that's our hiding place during a tornado. I had grabbed my computer. And later we were talking with some of our friends, and I was the only one who thought of the computer. They all grabbed jewelry. So, next time, I'll grab the computer and my jewelry box.

You are probably wondering why I didn't grab the photo albums. Do you know how many of them there are and how heavy they are? Anyway, the pictures are all on the computer, so I would only have lost the fancy background artwork that I put in the books. I'd still have the photos. I have three 3-mg travel drives with pictures on them, and I grabbed those, too.

I think losing the pictures would have been worse than losing anything but my husband.

So, we survived this round. Tomorrow -- 92 degrees -- that means I'm going swimming!

A Long Time Ago

....In a Galaxay, far, far away... Gas prices were 25 cents a gallon. That's what we paid for gas back in the early 60s down at Egolf's gas station (it was a Gulf Gas Station) on the corner of Second Avenue and The Pike. In fact, every gas station in south Jersey priced gas the same -- no price wars back then.

I was talking with my granddaughter Rose today telling her that I remember when gas was only 25 cents a gallon, and I remember when it shot up from about 30 cents a gallon to 75 cents a gallon -- Thank you Jimmy Carter -- and we were all in shell shock because it happened overnight.

I wish I could remember why it happened, but I remember how broke we all felt when gas was priced that high. Of course, a good income was $12,000 a year back then, also. If you made that much, you could buy a home, furnish it, and live comfortably, including owning a car, having three children, and paying all the necessary bills that went along with those responsibilities.

That's $1,000 per month. Why now we're paying almost half that much per month just for medicines to keep us alive, and the other half for gasoline. So while our income has crept up, we are NOT making seven times what we were making back when gas was 75 cents a gallon. We are also not paying much more for food than we always have $100 a week since the children became teenagers. Now, though, there are only two of us, so that $100 a week isn't really a bargain, is it?

Well, I think it is. I know food has gone up, and produce goes up and comes down, then it goes up again -- that is depending on winter freezes, summer droughts, etc. Beef and chicken, though, that's another story. Since when did chicken become more expensive that steak? I just noticed that two breasts, bone in, is around $4, and I can get a nice round steak for under $4.

The thing is, I prefer chicken to beef. Pork and veal and lamb are not an option -- while we can get pork, it is awful. Veal and lamb aren't even available out here. So, we're basically stuck with hot dogs, brats, chicken, or beef.

Long way to go from "A Long Time Ago" , isn't it?

Thunderstorms

I love thunderstorms. I always have. In Runnemede, as I've mentioned before, you could tell when a thunderstorm was coming, even if the sky showed no evidence of an in-coming storm, just by the smell in the air.

Out here in Northern Kentucky, Southern Ohio -- the two places we've lived for the past 35 years -- I have never smelled that smell. Why? I don't know.

I think it had something to do with the wind flows over the Delaware River, which was just west of us, and the storms came from there, and frankly the Delaware didn't smell too great back then. It's been cleaned up a lot since I was a girl. But, the last time I was in Runnemede, I was sitting in church, and I smelled that smell, and sure enough, later that afternoon, there was a thunderstorm.

Now, out here we've lived just north of the Ohio River, and now we live just south of the Ohio River. Storms out here can come from any direction -- north, south, east (yes, we've had them back up and give us a tornado from the wrong direction), and west. So, I should, if it was the river smell that was causing the "storms coming" odor, have smelled it. But I never have.

The last storm that went through was rife with tornadoes -- none touched down where we live, but just south of us, they passed through -- not more than 5 miles as the crow flies. And the lightning was constant, thus the thunder was non-ending. Very few of the storms we have here are like this one. In fact, the TV weather station said that this was a once-a-year type storm. I only remember one other storm like the one just past since we've lived out here in tornado territory.

Now, while the sun is not out, it has brightened up some, but it's still hot and humid, and the storms are to continue through tomorrow. Apparently the weather front has stalled over top of us.

I remember one Memorial Day weekend, when the children were younger, we spend a weekend camping out, and that whole weekend we put up with storm after storm after storm. They just kept coming up the Ohio River and dumped on us the whole time.

Finally, I gave up and told Alan I was heading home, I'd see him when it was either time for the camping experience to end (it was a church affair), or the sun came out which ever came first. Well, I guess Alan had had enough as well, because he and the children and I went home that night, left our camping gear at the campground, and went back the next day, after a dry night at home in our beds. Our gear was soaked, of course, but was drying on bushes where some thoughtful church friends had put the stuff.

And people wonder why I don't like camping!

Interesting thought

I received this text in an e-mail earlier today.

CELL PHONE vs. BIBLE

I wonder what would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat our cell phone? What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets? What if we flipped through it several times a day? What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it? What if we used it to receive messages from the text? What if we treated it like we couldn't live without it? What if we gave it to Kids as gifts? What if we used it when we traveled? What if we used it in case of emergency?

This is something to make you go....hmm...where is my Bible?

Oh, and one more thing. Unlike our cell phone, we don't have to worry about our Bible being disconnected because Jesus already paid the bill.

Makes you stop and think 'where are my priorities?' And no dropped calls!

Well, you know what? My father did this. He always carried at least a New Testament with him, often a full Bible, very small print. He flipped through it several times a day. He never forgot it, though. It was part and parcel of his left-hand breast pocket. He couldn't live without it. He gave away more Bibles than anyone I know. Interesting e-mail, isn't it?

Graduation parties?

We never had them. My niece asked me to write about our parties, but, alas, they were non-existent. Now, my brothers may have benefited from them, but I didn't, and I don't think my sister did.


It was cultural shock when we moved out here and every high-school graduate was given a big party. I mean every, single one. So, we went to all these parties -- church kids who earned their high school diplomas -- and we gave our requisite gifts -- not begrudged.


Then it was my children's turn. Phil was 13 when he graduated from high school. What kind of party to do give to a 13-year-old. We gave him two. One for his friends, one for ours. The one for his friends was a pizza party at a local pizzeria. Then the one at the house was for the church folks, and we had a wonderful cake made especially for him. It (the cake) looked like a stack of books. It was held in our home, and the day was a nice day.


Then we had Becky's party. It was outdoors, and again, it was mostly church people, and a few neighbors, as Becky was well-known in the neighborhood, because she had cleaned most of the neighbors homes or babysat their children.


Cyndi's party was a pre-engagement party, I think. She wasn't engaged, yet, but she and Shandon were surely thinking about marriage. She got married when she was 19. She worked at Family Bookstores, while she was being home-schooled, so her trek through her books was slower than the others. She did very well in her SATs and was scholarshipped to Cincinnati Bible College. She didn't accept. She wanted to get married. That was okay with us. And she has a good marriage and great children.


So, that's the story on graduation parties. When I graduated from grade school there was a party at the school, that was it. It was held in the gym and not very many graduates attended. When I graduated from high-school, there was a party at the school, but I wasn't permitted to go. There was a previous commitment made by my parents -- not a party -- I think it was a church service or something -- and I graduated, got my diploma, and came home. No party for me. I had even sewn a really pretty dress for the event.


The night I graduated from high school is embedded in my mind forever, I think.
It was a hot, humid day, and practicing in the heat was taking its toll -- kids were dropping like flies. After practice, which they cut off at 10 a.m., we went home and waited for the graduation exercise.


Around 5 p.m. a string of thunderstorms rolled through Runnemede and arrangements were made to have the graduation in the auditorium -- which meant only parents could attend -- rather than in the football stadium, to which we could invite 6 people. Well, it cleared up in time for the graduation to be held outdoors. However, two things the powers-that-be forgot or didn't think about -- first, the turf was wet, and we all sunk in to our ankles. There had been a LOT of rain. Second, it got cold, really cold, and we weren't prepared to be outdoors in cold weather, since it had been so hot only two hours prior to the ceremony.


My father was asked to give the invocation (that's a prayer given prior to the ceremony). My friend, Linda Lott's father was asked to say the benediction (that's a prayer after the ceremony). I'm including those definitions because they don't do prayers at graduations any more.
Daddy, of course, had on his three-piece suit, so he wasn't cold at all. I was freezing. I mean those gowns -- under which we ladies were ordered to wear only our underwear including a full slip -- was not enough covering in cold weather. I mean, I thought it was going to snow after those storms went through. It wasn't really that cold, it just felt like it because it was so windy.
The ceremony went according to plan, except for the sloshing sound our feet made in the turf. I got my scholarship, and some other award, and that was it. I went home. Sulked for several days, and forgot all about my lack of party attendance. It was time to get ready for college, and the day after my graduation from high school I receive a letter from my college telling me the books that ALL incoming freshmen were required to read prior to attendance in September. They were boring books, too.


I never did get any thrill out of reading Walden's Pond, The Federalist Papers, or 1984. I also had a volume of American literature which included stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mark Twain, and several other not-so-easy-to-read authors. I was on my way. Graduation was left behind, and I was looking forward to my college experience.


I spent the summer on the porch, reading those books. And thankfully, it was a breezy, not-too-hot summer and I was able to enjoy my reading time.

Charm Bracelets, again!

Yes, I wrote, back in December, 2007, about charm bracelets. I mean, growing up in the 50s and 60s meant if you were a girl you have a charm bracelet. Some had more charm -- and charms -- than others.

I lost my charm bracelet from those years back in the early 70s during one of our moves. How I wish I had that bracelet today.

I've spent hours on E-Bay searching for a bracelet that comes close to what I had on my bracelet. You see, today journaling is all the rage, but back then, except for our very private diaries, girls had a charm bracelet.

When you had an "event" in your life, you got a charm to depict that event.

Mine started with my 8th grade graduation. I got a heart with my name engraved on it, and the date of the graduation. Then through high school, I picked up a few more charms -- I got a typewriter, a nurse's cap (I thought I might want to be a nurse), a violin, a piano with a lid that lifted up, a diploma, a graduation cap, a tennis racket (because I won a tennis tournament). Then when I went to college as a math major, I picked up some "mathematics" charms -- an abacus, a protractor, a compass, and a slide rule. On the slide rule, the slider moved. I also got a globe (all silver), an hour glass, and an artists palette. Someone gave me a silver Bible that opened up, but I don't recall that it had any scripture in it. My mother-in-law gave me a screw-ball charm. And I got a bowling charm from a boyfriend who liked to take me bowling. That was it. I also got an engagement ring charm from Alan, but...

When I got married I started another charm bracelet. The engagement ring charm was the first I put on that bracelet. It doesn't have many charms, which means that I haven't have many significant things occer in the last 42 years or it means that I just forgot about it until recently.

I know when we visited places, I would pick up charms, but I haven't attached them, and I have misplaced most of them. What a shame.

I'm trying to be more attentive to that bracelet of my life since marriage. Someday a daughter or daughter-in-law may want it. Or not.