Old-Fashioned

Archaic

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From the Greek root arkhe, beginning, this word has come to mean very old or old-fashioned. 

Younger folks today, for example, often think that the music I love is archaic. Maybe, but at least it has a melody consisting of more than four or five notes repeated endlessly until the song is finally over.  I’ll take archaic to what passes for some types of music today. Here’s one example of what I mean:

If you’re a fan, then enjoy yourself. If  you’re bored after the first 60 seconds, feel free to move right along. You are not required to listen to the whole thing. You’re welcome.

There are some things, of course, that truly are archaic–and that I’m thankful have passed off the scene. High-button shoes.  Bustles.  Foot-binding.  Hoop skirts. Corsets. Layers and layers of petticoats. That list is endless.

I’m also very glad that I don’t have to deal with a wood-burning kitchen range; that my water is available at the turn of a knob or lever; that I don’t have to use an outhouse or a chamber pot;  that I can luxuriate in a daily shower or bath. That list could go on for a long time, too.

There are things about the “olden days,” as they are sometimes called, that I think we should bring back.  No public displays of affection. That’s a big one.  I’m not a prude.  No, I’m NOT!  But I really object to having people make out Right.In. Front. Of. Me. in the grocery checkout line.  Good grief.  Get a room.

I also think it would be a good thing to just turn off all our electronics for a few hours now and then. Civil conversation has become a lost art, which is one of the reasons I do so much marital counseling in my office. People just don’t know how to communicate with each other any more. Listening?  Yeah, that’s a thing of the past.  We need to learn to listen in order to understand, not just to respond.

However, when I think of some other archaic practices, such as blood-letting or the use of leeches in medicine, I’m very thankful to be living in the present.  One archaic practice that I wouldn’t have minded  was that women were expected to remain in bed for two or three weeks after giving birth.

I think we should revive that one.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/archaic/

 

 

There is a Limit

Express

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Little Timmy had been expressing himself for several hours. Wandering around the house, he had streaked mud on the floor and the walls.  He had used his finger paints on the carpeting. He had smeared the contents of his diaper on his crib and the wall during his  “nap.”

He had dumped his bowl on top of his head at lunch, banging his spoon on the tray and hollering for more. He had flushed his shirt down the toilet. He had used the bathtub for a urinal. He had run one of his Matchbox cars on the table top, leaving a tangle of scratches.

Then he turned his attention to his mommy’s yarn basket, knotting up the  strands so badly that she threw it out in despair. When he took the arm of the stereo and moved it back and forth across the record she’d been playing,  something big snapped in Mommy’s head.

She took his little earlobe between her fingers, pulling him into the kitchen where she found a little wooden spoon. Divesting Timmy of his diaper, she bent him over her knee and whacked his backside.

 

He screamed, “NOOOoooooo!  Hurts, Mommy!”

“I know.  You’ve been hurting me all day.  Time for me to express myself, young man. Enough is enough!”  And she whacked him again.

While they were making up, him sobbing on her lap while she hugged him, he said, “I sowwy, Mommy.”  And she said, “I love you, Timmy, but there are limits on how you may express yourself. Well, tomorrow is a new day.  But I think we’re going to keep this spoon in plain sight for a while.”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/express/

 

PS.  Some of you may be horrified that this child was admonished in such an old-fashioned way.  I know it’s not politically correct to spank a child these days.  I can only tell you that if more moms and dads had used this quick and impressive reminder on a recalcitrant child, I wouldn’t have so many unhappy, rebellious teens sitting in my counseling office complaining that their parents don’t understand them.  The child in this little story is not Timmy.  He may recognize himself. He’s a happy, contributing, well-adjusted adult with children of his own.

Changing the Rules

Interest

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I talked with a girl last week who was wondering how far she should go in pursuing a kid she’s interested in.  I told her to let him do the pursuing.  I said, “If he’s interested in you, he will let you know.”  She laughed. “That’s really old-fashioned. These days, a girl can pursue a guy and nobody thinks anything of it.”

“I don’t think much of it either,” I responded.  I do not believe that the nature of the male of the species, in spite of the many efforts to feminize him, has changed all that much. Testosterone exists. Give it time. If he’s interested, he’ll do something about it.

I doubt very much she’ll  follow my counsel.  She’s pretty determined to “get” him.  Seems to me that no self-respecting man wants to be captured by a determined female, but then maybe I am just a tad old-fashioned.

 

 

But shouldn’t a girl be able to let a guy know if she’s attracted to him?  Well, sure. That’s been going on since Adam and Eve.  Most girls know how to do this without swaggering up to some guy and saying, “So, how about we get to know each other, Handsome?” Honestly most teen guys I know, even in this age of woman-as-pursuer, would be extremely uncomfortable with such an obvious approach.

Girls, you don’t need to make a fool of yourself to attract a guy’s attention.  A glance, a smile, an open and friendly demeanor, will go a lot farther with most guys than  to be openly hunted.

Of course, there are guys out there who have no scruples whatsoever, and the minute they think you’re interested they’ll move in on you and BAM!  they’ve got you on a hook that will cause you a lot of pain. It’s exciting at first, because they treat you as if they were just waiting for you to let them know you were interested. It soon becomes apparent, though, that they have wandering eyes, to say nothing of wandering hands.

Well.  Maybe I should write a book about how the nature of the human male is the same now as it’s always been. We may try to change the rules, but  we can’t change human nature.

Anyway, what self-respecting girl wants a guy who just sits passively waiting to be cut out of the herd? Not me!

Be friendly, be observant, be smart. Let him do the pursuing.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/interest/

Old-Fashioned Sayings

Better

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Every now and then, one of my offspring tells me that some of the things I say are very old-fashioned. I reply  that it’s not surprising, since I AM kind of old-fashioned.

I hear, often, my mom’s words coming out of my mouth. For instance, would say she was “tickled pink” over something.

Another one she said was, “You’d better had!”

Strangely, I knew exactly what she meant.

Here’s how it worked:

“Linda, did you clean up your room?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’d better had!”

I have no idea how that would diagram. It certainly doesn’t fit into any sentence structure I know of.  But the meaning was clear.

As my dad would say, “Well, I guess!”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/better/

Coffee!

Percolate

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This is an automatic connection in my mind.My parents drank nothing but Folger’s coffee, but they enjoyed this Maxwell House commercial.   Younger people today don’t even know what it is to percolate coffee, I suppose. Here’s how it was done:

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/percolate/

Old-Fashioned

Border

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When I was about 10, my mom taught my sister and me to do simple embroidery and crochet.We churned out dishtowels, pillowcases, doilies, and hand towels.  I don’t know if much of our handiwork still exists.  I have a couple of things from that era–dresser scarves and lacy doilies.

They’re out of fashion these days. If you don’t  know how to do it yourself, you can find all sorts of things in antique shops. Or, you can find machine-crocheted edgings.  Or you could even learn how to do it yourself!

I keep hoping such finery will become popular again. I’ve noticed lots of lacy tunics and shrugs over the last couple of years, so I guess there’s still hope.  I’ve also noticed more knitted lace, as well. I love the look knitted lace gives to a sweater or  shawl. Very elegant, and if you make it yourself, you’ll be the trend- setter among your friends.  Well, maybe. Not everyone loves lace. Some find it too fussy and old-fashioned. I just think it’s pretty.

There are some things in my linen closet that were made by Terry’s grandmother and his mother, Cut work, tatting, fine-thread crochet. I know how to do all that, and someday maybe I’ll dust off my skills. I’ve already used up some leftover yarn to make thick, tightly-crocheted potholders.  They’re pretty and practical.

If young girls tell you they don’t want to sit around doing fancy work all day, take away their cell phones. A couple of days of withdrawal will happen.  You could lock them in their rooms and shove bread and water at them until that’s over, and when you unlock the door again (this is a fairy tale) they will say, “Mom, could you teach us to crochet?”  and everyone will live happily ever after.

https://dailyposts.wordpressl.com/prompts/border

Hard Drive

The year is 2214, and your computer’s dusty hard drive has just resurfaced at an antique store. Write a note to the curious buyer explaining what he or she will find there. (Thank you for suggesting a similar prompt, Auntysocial!)

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“According to the date stamped on this thing, it was manufactured 200 years ago.  What is it? What was it used for?”

“Well, Sir, that’s what they used to call a “hard drive” back in the old days.  These antiquated pieces of computer hardware were filled with little dealies called “chips,” and they were wired into the computer and they made everything else work.  Lots of information could be stored in a hard drive, but of course nothing like we can do today.”

“What good are they now?  I mean, the technology is so old, I can’t imagine how they’d be useful—well, unless you can unearth an equally old and cumbersome computer to go with it.” Laughing, the customer tried to imagine what such a machine would look like, and the room it would take up. He thought of his sleek machine at home, of the screen that could be flashed off or on against a blank wall; the ease of simply speaking into the microphone while the computer memorized and recorded every word, even faithfully recreating voice intonation.  He had heard of something called a “keyboard” that was set up so the user could “type” words onto a program and then “save” it to this hard drive thingamajig.  Cumbersome way to do work, he thought, and was thankful he lived in a more advanced age.

“Sir, I believe we can retrieve a lot of interesting history from these old hard drives.  You may even be able to learn things about your own ancestors, if you ever came across a hard drive one of your ancestors once used. After all, they lived pretty long for their time, sometimes up to 90 or even in rare instances, to 100.  Amazing, isn’t it, how short their lifespans were?  They did manage to accomplish some pretty amazing things, considering how backward they were in science and mathematics. I see it as a new twist on the old-fashioned archeology they loved so much, digging around in the ground to learn about ancient people.  All we have to do is repair an old machine and pop in an old hard drive, and we have an entire life history at our command.  Can you imagine, they even used to write love letters to each other that could be read by millions. Used something they called “Facebook.”  Or “social media.”  Odd way to make friends and fall in love, if you ask me, but it was a strange world back then,”

“For sure.  Interesting, though.  They thought of themselves as being quite advanced.  Pity. They wouldn’t know how to get around in our world, would they?  Well, thanks.  I think I’ll take this, find an old computer somewhere, and play around with it.  Never know what I might find out!”

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/buyers-beware/