The P.A.

A weekly address from Patrick Adams,
President of St. Louis Community Credit Union

Reminiscing Makes Me Smile

On January 12th, 2015, posted in: Uncategorized by

memory laneWe were boarding American Airlines out of Dallas. I noticed that the guy in front of me was intensely studying one of the doorjamb stickers, in the way that you check your car’s doorjamb stickers if you want to know how much air to put in your tires. He wanted to find out something. Given that I have never looked at the doorjamb of a plane, I had no idea. 

As I recall, only his head and left shoulder moved in my direction. I’d say he was on the scrawny side.  His shoulder looked like a match to Larry King’s — thin, almost jagged-looking. He was looking at me over his glasses that had slid to the end of his likewise thin, jagged looking nose. Out of nowhere, he says, “This plane is 27 years old.”

I responded with, “Yeah, if you keep them maintained, they can fly forever.” I added my own little flair so that he knew I was no rookie flyer: “They lose some fuel efficiencies because of a lack of modern technology and the lightweight nature of modern composites used in the structure. Otherwise they’re good to go.” I was quite impressed with myself. Especially since that shut him up and I didn’t end up in some silly conversation about something that meant very little to me. Look, if the plane lands, I’m pretty happy. After that, I don’t need the details.

It did get me to thinking, though. Not many things I grew up with are still hanging around — maintained or otherwise. Kids today have no idea what a payphone is, nor do they know what a pair of “rabbit ears” are used for. Snow tires (at least in the Midwest) are virtually a thing of the past; so are snow chains. The Sony Walkman is long gone, too. Iron skillets are a dying breed. And I haven’t seen an empty coffee can filled with bacon grease on the side of the stove since my favorite aunt passed away 25 years ago.

Are you old enough to remember how that iron skillet and that bacon grease were inseparable? Sort of like the comedy teams of Abbot & Costello, Martin & Lewis, Rowan & Martin and the Three Stooges. Come to think of it, what happened to comedy teams? Everybody’s on their own today. Apparently, comedy teams are a relic of past generations as well.

The woman in 20F unfolded a paper map. Haven’t seen one of those bad boys in a long time. It was Florida, and she was busy plotting her course.

The older couple across the aisle were holding hands. She was gently rubbing his hand like she probably has for a lifetime. They were both neatly pressed and dressed to the nines. I guess, like the plane, they are well maintained. As a result, they’ve lasted forever.

All of this reminiscing makes me smile.

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