James Poore

My World Through Rose Colored Glasses James Poore

If we were born before 1945, we were before . television, before penicillin, before polio shots, frozen foods, Xerox, contact lenses, Frisbees and The Pill. We were before radar, credit cards, split atoms, laser beams and ball-point pens; before pantyhose, dishwashers, clothes dryers, electric blankets, air conditioning, drip-dry clothes, and before man walked on the moon. We got married first and then lived together. How quaint can you be? In our time, closets were for clothes, not for "coming out of." Bunnies were small rabbits and rabbits were not Volkswagens. Designer Jeans were scheming girls named Jean or Jeanne, and having a meaningful relationship meant getting along well with our cousins. We thought fast food was what you ate during lent, and Outer Space was the back of the local theater. We were before house-husbands, gay rights, computer dating, dual careers and computer marriages. We were before day-care centers, group therapy and nursing homes. We never heard of FM radio, tape decks, electric typewriters, artificial hearts, word processors, yogurt and guys wearing earrings. For us, time-sharing meant togetherness, not computers or condominiums. A chip meant a piece of wood; hardware meant hardware and software wasn't even a word. There was no UPS, FedEx or Express Mail. And an Automated Teller Machine was a long-time bank employee who was good with numbers. In 1940, "Made in Japan" meant junk, and the term "making out" referred to how you did on the exam. Pizzas, McDonald's and instant coffee were unheard of. We hit the scene when there were 5 and 10 cent stores where you bought things for five and ten cents, Ice cream cones were a nickel or a dime (double dip). For one nickel you could ride a streetcar, make a phone call, buy a Pepsi or enough stamps to mail one letter and two postcards. You could buy a new Chevy coupe for $600, but who could afford one? A pity, too, because gas was only 11 cents a gallon! In our day, cigarette smoking