ONE OF THE LAST BASTIONS OF ENJOYABLE FREEDOM SHE HAS LEFT

Looking out the window first thing this morning I was heartened to see it not snowing and the wind not trying to topple the trees.  It didn't take me long to fire up Subie, and with camera in hand, off I went down Bayfield River Road, keeping an eye out for any color on this drab, cloud-shrouded, cold gray morning.  How nice, I thought to myself, to finally be back out into the countryside again, despite it only being the beginning of January.

For the second time in two days, and with a grocery list in hand, Woodsy and I later set out for Goderich.  Visibility was excellent, with mainly bare roads having only a few snowy stretches.  No problem for four-wheel or All Wheel Drive vehicles.  Walmart was busy like nuts again with a mosh of bumper carts in the store and bumper cars in the parking lot.  Luckily, we escaped unscathed.

 ORCHARD LINE WASN'T A PROBLEM FOR SUBIES ALL WHEEL DRIVE

Talked to Aunt Jean on the phone last night, and with not having one of her better days, she said it felt like her 98 years have finally caught up with her.  I sensed her discouragement at not being able to do the things she once could.  Aunt Jean has been on her own for most of her life and was accustomed to doing everything mainly by herself.  She golfed right up into her nineties, and by golly, she still drives her own car.  Matter of fact, when I called her last night, she had just driven home from her ladyfriend Pat's place through heavy Sarasota traffic.  She is seriously thinking of selling her Toyota Corolla in the Spring.  It only has 115,000 miles on it, and it's nearly twenty years old.  Deciding to sell her car is a major decision and has been on her mind for the past few years.  It's a difficult decision and one she has been struggling with.  To Aunt Jean, she feels it is one of the last bastions of enjoyable freedom she has left, besides ice cream before bedtime, and insisting on doing her own laundry every Saturday morning despite her facility's offer to do it for her..............      

Al's Music Box::  Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay by Otis Redding.

GROANER'S CORNER:(( LOST WORDS FROM OUR CHILDHOOD

 Murgatroyd!.. Do you remember that word? Would you believe the email spell checker did not recognize the word Murgatroyd? Heavens to Murgatroyd!

The other day a not so elderly (65) (I say 75) lady said something to her son about driving a Jalopy and he looked at her quizzically and said "What the heck is a Jalopy?" 

OMG (new phrase)! He never heard of the word jalopy!! She knew she was old...... but not that old. Well, I hope you are Hunky Dory after you read this and chuckle.
 
About a month ago, I illuminated some old expressions that have become obsolete because of the inexorable march of technology. These phrases included "Don't touch that dial," "Carbon copy," "You sound like a broken record" and "Hung out to dry."

Back in the olden days we had a lot of “moxie” We'd put on our best “bib and tucker” to “straighten up and fly right.”

Heavens to Betsy! Gee Whillikers!

Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy Moley!

We were “in like Flynn” and “living the life of Riley..” Even a regular guy couldn't accuse us of being a knucklehead, a nincompoop or a pill. Not for all the tea in China!
 
Back in the olden days, life used to be swell, but when's the last time anything was swell?  Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the D.A.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes and pedal pushers...

AND DON'T FORGET.... Saddle Stitched Pants.

"Oh, my aching back!" "Kilroy was here," but he isn't anymore.

We wake up from what surely has been just a short nap, and before we can say, Well, I'll be “a monkey's uncle!” Or, This is a “fine kettle of fish!”  We discover that words we grew up with, the words that seemed omnipresent as oxygen have vanished with scarcely a notice from our tongues and our pens and our keyboards.

Poof go the words of our youth, the words we've left behind.  We blink and they're gone.

Where have all those great phrases gone?

(My Favorite) "Let's all go to the beach Saturday".

Long gone: Pshaw, The milkman did it. Hey! It's your nickel Don't forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper. Well, Fiddlesticks! Going like sixty. I'll see you in the funny papers. Don't take any wooden nickels. Wake up and smell the roses.

It turns out there are more of these lost words and expressions than Carter has liver pills. This can be disturbing stuff! ("Carter's Little Liver Pills" are gone too!)

We of a certain age have been blessed to live in changeable times. For a child each new word is like a shiny toy, a toy that has no age. We at the other end of the chronological arc have the advantage of remembering there are words that once did not exist and there were words that once strutted their hour upon the earthly stage and now are heard no more, except in our collective memory.  It's one of the greatest advantages of aging.

Leaves us to wonder where Superman will find a phone booth...

See ya later, alligator!

Oki Doki

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