Good Morning Gentle Readers,
Today is Dad's birthday. Though he was born just a few months before Black Tuesday in 1929 he wears his age well and up until this year he still worked about twenty hours a week. He's thin, healthy, and still quite lucid.
TWC and Dad at Big Bear Lake
Like most of us who've been around the block a few times, he's seen some stunning changes.
The world of the thirties had no antibiotics and it took his brother a year to recover from pneumonia. Every few days the doctor (who made house calls) would come by to check on my uncle. They'd lay him up on the dining room table and stick a long needle into his chest through his ribcage to draw off the accumulated fluid in his lungs.
He grew up in St Paul where milk was still delivered door to door by horse drawn dairy wagons.
Buck Rogers was a childhood fantasy, but Dad would live to see the reality of the moon landing.
Ultimately the world left mechanical behind for digital, radio for cable and internet, and natural fabrics for synthetics and back to natural again.
It was number please, rotary dial mechanical phones, private lines, extensions in other rooms, push button technology, and then cellular phones. And, of all the technological innovation of the last eighty years, he is most amazed by cell phones.
If someone would have told me fifty years ago that some day people would walk around the grocery store talking on a phone I would have told them they were out of their mind.
Happy Birthday, Dad.