The Good Old Days

When I was young, I loved to spend time with my dad while he puttered around in the basement.  He would give me some scraps of wood along with a hammer and some nails, and let me attempt to build a piece of architectural wonder.  When necessary for the project, I was given a saw and a hand drill, and some screws or .  Dad was able to work on his project, my mother had some quiet time, and I was in hog heaven designing and building a lopsided, structurally unsound building -- or whatever it was. 

            My dad had some power tools but found many occasions to stick with his more basic instruments of construction/destruction.  I think part of it was the feel of the drill handle as he turned it, watching the shavings slowly build up.  When he used his handsaw or plane, he had time to control the depth and length of a cut before it was too late.  The man had patience and would rarely mess up.  He let me try his electric drill and before I could anchor the bit into the wood it ran away from me, skidded across the wood, and came straight toward me.  He grabbed it and pried my fingers off the switch before I became its next victim.  I got better at it but it took practice.

             I had a good look at another problem with electric drills when one year, I received a 1950s Sears Roebuck dollhouse for Christmas.  Of course, all the metal pieces had to be put together using tabs and slots.  Dad, who was never one to follow directions, insisting they were written by people in other countries who gave wrong information on purpose, said a few choice words acceptable for fathers at this time of year and got out his electric drill and hammer.  I think I had the only dollhouse drilled and bolted together and then hammered into a respectable shape.  Those razor-sharp tabs would never slash a little girl’s finger but it took a long time to get all the metal shavings out of the living room rug          

            We had a pretty large lawn back in the day, as well as a garden.  Dad would get outside each summer and tackle the grass and weeds using a push mower.  A long wooden handle and some sharp rotating blades and a set of wheels made up the entire contraption.  As soon as I was tall enough to reach the handle, he let me cut the level areas of the lawn.  Talk about fun!!!  Pushing down one row, then another, going as fast as you can!  What could be better!  On the even more plus side, it didn’t make much noise so the neighbors didn’t care if you were using it at eight am Sunday morning.  You didn’t have to fill it with gasoline, use oil, or worry about a mechanical failure.  As long as you didn’t hit a land mine you were in good shape.

            We didn’t own a car.  Living in a city, we had the option of public transportation or walking, most times it was walking.  If I wanted to go to the library which was a long way for a little kid, my dad would take me and we would stop at the hardware store on the way and look in the windows of other stores along the way.  We went through a viaduct and I hoped that a train would rumble over us, shaking the debris on the street and sidewalk. We passed the local ball field and the swings in the park.  The library was finally reached and I would spend as long a time as my dad’s patience would permit.  Books were selected carefully because I knew I had to carry them all the way back home.  I usually overestimated my strength and stamina and my dad would end up carrying the bulk of them. 

            Today’s world is certainly different.  Hand tools are considered antiques; landlines are becoming obsolete and the faster you can get something done is the most acceptable way.  I certainly don’t believe in living in the past because there are so many things that have greatly helped humanity such as our new technology.  The medical field has progressed by leaps and bounds.  Transportation is at a whole new level; to the moon and beyond! There are tons more breakfast cereals to choose from. 

            Who would have imagined being able to build an object by giving the specs to a machine and letting it do the rest, even a house! It starts doing its thing and BAM, you have a move in ready home of your dreams!  A few weeks ago there was a news program showing that today’s houses burn at a faster rate than those built years ago.  Two of the causes are that trees are cut at an earlier age now which means that the lumber used in building structures is less dense and, modern, inexpensive furniture is cheaply made of this same younger wood. Just a thought, if you live in an older home with vintage or antique furniture you have more time to get out unscathed.

            Old ways versus new ways aside, we can draw some wisdom from both and come to a place where both can fit in.  Patience pays off.  If someone wants to learn something that you’re capable of teaching them, do it.  Let them try, and if they screw up, give them more chances to succeed. Take a walk with a young person. Spend time listening; you may be surprised by someone else’s thoughts.  People will open up and express themselves to your face more than they ever would via texting or emailing and maybe, just maybe they’ll explain the meaning of life, or how to fix your slow computer.

            The world today moves at light speed.  Stop and smell the roses while we still can.

Sharon