As I sat in my pandemic isolation this past weekend, having less than passing interest in the Superbowl, and it’s attendant foolishness, I couldn’t help but be struck by that old saw: “what’s old once turns new again”.
Now it wasn’t just that those words had been etched into my brain by hearing them time and again as a boy. My mother was forever chanting that mantra, oh, sure, in her case she was espousing platitudes to convince me that wearing my older brother’s outgrown clothes was not only perfectly acceptable, but a nod to being a fashion visionary. I am quite certain that in my entire life no one has ever considered me to be a fashion icon.
And my ears rang with the same words as grandmother was trying to prepare me for what was to be one of the longest nights I have ever spent on a lumpy mattress temporarily elevated by a squeaky spring suspension out in the garage, accompanied by the noisy banging of the house heater, the equally loud gurgling of the water heater, and literally tons of hot rod engines and drag racing parts.
It certainly seemed to be a “family motto” as my mother’s father made the same claim as he explained why I was fishing with a string tied to an old cane pole with a bottle cork as a bobber and a piece of fat cut from the previous night’s meat instead of a nice new shiny rod and reel while out dragging carp off the river bottoms of central Oregon.
And while on the subject why in God’s name were we fishing for carp?
I had survived all of those indoctrinations relatively un-warped, at least on that account.
No, it was the constant rattle and prattle coming out of television commercials that had me keyed up. Commercials offering “home delivery” from my pharmacy, or grocer, or even used car sales company.
Home delivery, sold as the “newest innovation” of a passionate caring corporate America. Everyone is jumping on the bandwagon; spa’s, legal documents, exercise bikes, single meals made ahead, single meals for me to make at home, new cars, used cars, toys, planes, trains, flowers, garden sheds, and whatever else I could possibly need in my life.
And those home deliveries were not just through the mail in a “plain wrapper” stuffed in my mailbox, oh no, stuff is coming via UPS, FedEx, DHL, USPS, various truckers, Door Dash, even flying drones and computerized rolling ice chests.
And if its food, who knows when the delivery “personnel” (human or machine) last washed their “hands”.
And yet, thinking back, I realized there was nothing “new” about this. There had just been a few decades of adjustment since this was last readily available.
You see, as a boy, just beginning to find my way through life, I sold and delivered products door to door. It was quite common in the 1950s and 1960s.
Among the various things I sold and hand delivered back in the late 60’s and early 70’s were:
Flower and vegetable seeds for Burpee Seed Company
Newspapers for the San Francisco Chronicle and the S.F. Examiner
Brushes, brooms, mops, buckets, toilet cleaners, and cleaning supplies for Fuller Brush Company
Bathroom and household linens, cleaners, and all manner of consumables for Amway
Greeting cards, birthday, anniversary, and Christmas cards for some company I the name of which I can’t even recall.
Christmas gift candles, ornaments, nativities, and kitchen towels for another outfit whose name has faded along with my memory.
Chocolate bars and nut clusters
Not to mention “Vandermolen’s; “Efficient weeding and detailed lawn care services””
And truth be told, I wasn’t making any $15 an hour at that. But then, I wasn’t paying any taxes either.
But, that was before the politicians got involved and made it illegal for young children to have incentive. Then they made it illegal for young children to actually go out and learn about the effort required to live up to the demands of a job, an employer, and a customer. Before the politician’s made it illegal for kids to develop pride in their own ability, to set and accomplish goals, earn money, and save for a particular acquisition or for their future education. Not to mention contributing to the local economies and reducing their educational debt burden thus denying the politician a wailing point about the need to “forgive” student debt.
Now of course, kids aren’t allowed to take on any of those jobs, because the politician who has to have a crisis to solve in order to justify re-election each cycle has “improved things” for us all.
© Copyright 2021, Marty Vandermolen, All Rights Reserved
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