Monday, March 30, 2015

Nostalgia

Sadly items and places from my childhood no longer exist to share with my grandchild. Still I take my daugher and grandkids to the local Greek Diner. You think these neighborhood places are there forever but they are disappearing.

I went for a fast trip to the corner store. Cheekie was jumping up and down screaming she wants gum. I went looking for Old Bazooka Joe and didn't find that or Hubba Bubba or Chicklets. I found some Wrigleys spearmint. I couldn't find Cracker Jack and used the ConAgra knock offs.

There are many brands forgotten. I loved Planters Peanut butter. Gator Gum is a thing of the past. Five Alive is still produced but I haven't seen it in twenty years.

I will try and share a bar of Goldenbergs Peanut chews. They are a local treasure and hopefully they will be around for Cheekies kids too.

Sharing bits of your childhood with the Grandkids is part of the maze of life. Even small things like enjoying fresh coleslaw on a Turkey sandwich are parts of life. The grandkids are plenty of fun.

7 comments:

BB-Idaho said...

Yeah, times change. Being a bit older than dirt, I can remember
Beeman's and Blackjack gum, and
as a grade schooler, Mom put a pack of Sen-Sen (little squares
of strong licorice) in my lunch bag. Reminds me of the Lewis Black
observation that the entire world
supply of candy corn was made in
1912, and they haul a bunch out
each year.

Ducky's here said...

You can order Goldenberg's from Amazon.

Always On Watch said...

Recent article in the WaPo...

Stuff it: Millennials nix their parents’ treasures.

Beginning of the article:

A seismic shift of stuff is underway in homes all over America.

Members of the generation that once embraced sex, drugs and rock-and-roll are trying to offload their place settings for 12, family photo albums and leather sectionals.

Their offspring don’t want them.

As baby boomers, born between 1946 and 1964, start cleaning out attics and basements, many are discovering that millennials, born between 1980 and 2000, are not so interested in the lifestyle trappings or nostalgic memorabilia they were so lovingly raised with....


It's not only the local places and nostalgic products which are disappearing. A lot of people's treasured items passed down from generation to generation -- even family pictures -- will end up in the city dump.

**sigh**

Ducky's here said...

I worry about that also, AOW

I often wonder what will survive me.
I have a sampler that my grandmother and great aunt stitched with over 40 different stitches. I paid a sum to have it put in a museum quality frame. I don't know if my nieces care about it.

I have so much stuff from way back.

A framed letter informing my grandmother she was eligible for benefits because her husband was a veteran (WW I).
Photos my great uncle took of the marine invasion of deployment in Nicaragua.
A charter with my grandfathers signature for the founding of a scout troop at the First Baptist church in Malden, Mass.
My great aunt's Morris rocker.
Photos from as far back as the turn of the century. ben some tintypes.
My uncle Josip's citizenship test notebooks.

It goes on, it really goes on.

Sometimes I feel like the android dying at the end of Bladerunner.
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time... like tears in rain... Time to die."

Well not that dramatic but important enough.

beakerkin said...

I went to the Grocery store with Cheekie. She had an iron grip on a plastic barrel of cheese puffs as big as she was. She

beakerkin said...

This is why my badge will be cased in Amber and be buried with me. Certain items that are prized and small should be vacuum packed and buried with the owner.

Always On Watch said...

Duck,
I know exactly what you mean!

It saddens me to know that my grandmother's china will probably end up on the junk heap. And there is also Grandma's oil painting, which only I seem ever to have wanted to preserve.

Even worse, the table here in my living room! My father milled the wood (black walnut from a tree on the family farm) and hired a cabinet maker to create a truly unique piece -- beautiful and functional.