...And That's My
Opinion©
By Sandy Goldman
The Rogers Park
Community Curmudgeon
THERE’S A NAKED PERSON IN MY BATHROOM
One of the gifts I
received this past Christmas was a Rolodex card/address holder. They come in two kinds. There are the
carrousel type and the flat box type. I
was given the flat box type. I’m not
sure why someone thought to gift me this unusual present. After all even though it was old, my current
one worked just fine.
“But,” said my
guidance counselor, “It’s over forty years old.”
“You’re over 40,”
I protested, “And I don’t get a new you.”
“Right,” she
responded, “But I’m neat and presentable and up to date with no frayed corners
and my cover isn’t broken off.”
Well, score one
for the counselor.
Updating any kind
of address book {including those “little black books”) is truly a ride down
through memory lane.
Do we still need
the veterinarian’s phone number? Our last dog died about 18 years ago.
And here’s an old
school chum who was in the chimney business and repaired ours after the tornado
ran thru Rogers Park years and years ago.
Is he still in business or for that matter still alive? The phone number is wrong anyway.
There are four or
five business cards of carnival operators and merchandise purveyors. The last
carnival I chaired was in 1982.
I found a
multitude of phone numbers of furniture store buyers, which brought back fond
memories of days gone by. But would I reach anyone at Polk Bros., Goldblatt
Bros., Wieboldts Department Store, or Levitz or John M Smyth. Would those still
in business remember that skinny kid who called on them? Better yet would they care?
Here are many dear
friends from cards A to card Z who are no longer alive. Their names and memories remain etched in
the permanent Rolodex of my mind – I don’t need the cards.
An accumulation of
tradesmen – painters, plasterers, electricians, plumbers, refrigeration
repairmen, furnace repairmen and on and on.
Each person’s name conjured up a specific devastating day. Like the day
the entire ceiling is a second-floor bedroom fell to the floor, the result of a
thawing frozen pipe in the attic caused by a workman who failed to latch a
window in the attic.
Would I be calling
Wally Phillips again? I don’t think so.
There was the
lady, from whom I used to buy those great imported cigars…but I quit smoking
them several years ago. That card
brought back a delicious but sad memory.
I still miss those cigars.
The list is long:
As
for the title—it has nothing to do with the story. But it did get your
attention—didn’t it?
...And that's my opinion.
And I'm Sandy Goldman
Send me your e-mail address or those of others
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