Little Egypt Heritage Articles Stories of Southern Illinois (c) Bill Oliver 25 July 2004 Vol 3 Issue: #28 ISBN: pending Osiyo, Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen of Little Egypt, As I sat in the waiting room of the car dealership waiting for my car to receive its three thousand mile lube-oil-filter treatment, I wrote many of the words below. However, I had to more than revise most of it and eliminate more than third of it due to the fear of plagiarizing. My birthday just whizzed by last week, also the birthday of one my daughters was Monday last. One of my daughters-in-law always finds cards that send me into peals of laughter. For this birthday she sent me reading material in the form of two books. One a most interesting book of Irish stories. The other is one of those that you keep in the "library" for quick reading ... quotes, sayings, short quizzes. The introduction had me falling off my "stool" which hurt more than my sides. I'm referring to Bob Phillips' book "Over the Hill & On a Roll". I was writing about the very things covered in his introduction. I will repeat an idea or two though, and tell you to go read the book for yourself, that is, if you can laugh out loud when you read. The first clue I agreed with, as I did with the second and third ones. You are past the midway of life and rolling down hill if you believe (1) that printers are using smaller type these days; (2) that people are talking softer than they used to, and, (3) that shoelaces are harder to reach. Things that I would not know if I didn't open my mail include what readers think about when they read. A couple of weeks ago I talked about some words which have gone "out of style". "Foot feed" sure "sparked" some memories. One of my granddaughters thinks that I am a "silly ole Poppy" for calling a refrigerator an "ice box". However, I love to tell her about that insulated tin lined piece of furniture in the corner of the kitchen which held ice in one compartment and dripped melted water into a pan underneath. And, about the two compartments where one contained things that you didn't have to open the door to retrieve anything very often and another where you kept things that you needed more often. That the ice man looked at the window to see if a sign with a number was posted there. The sign had several numbers affixed to it, such as 25, 50, 75 or 100. What ever number was upright indicated how many pounds of ice we wanted that day. We kids would "hitch" rides on the back of the ice- man's horse drawn wagon and eat the chips on warm days. We would also hitch rides on the milk-man's wagon and enjoy the "coolness" radiating from it. Both of these delivery folks had horses that knew the "route" so well that they would stop automatically in front of the houses of customers. Other delivery folk used the alley to deliver products and/or merchandise. Newer homes do not have alleys. Today alleys exist only in the older neighborhoods of cities. They were unpaved roadways between streets. Come to think about it -- city streets were not paved either. One of my chores was to empty the pot-belly stove and dump the "clinkers" in the "potholes" in the street and alley. The coal was delivered from the alleys. The coal wagon "dumped" coal in our "two-car" garage. The coal bin took the space where today a "second car" would. I'm appalled by the amount of garbage in front of homes today. In my neighborhood we are allowed three "containers". I notice that, not only are here three containers in front of most homes, but they seem to get larger every year. In some communities weight of a container is of small importance. The newer trucks are equipped with "lifts" to dump these containers into the truck. I remember that everyone had a compost pile and once a week the "Junk" man would drive his wagon through the neighborhood for "recyclables"; for which he might give us a few coins. In this day of low-carb diets, my grandson will condescend to eat a hot dog if it is plain, and the bun has to be eaten separately. He will sometimes eat some french fries that come with the "Happy Meals". However, it is the "toy" which is of interest. Fast Food didn't exist when we were children. Grandma cooked every day and "slow". If we were on the farm, she cooked before breakfast. Lunch and "supper" were "left-overs". If we were living in the "city", cooking was all afternoon and served for "dinner" when Grandpa returned home from work. Left-overs were used the next day, usually for lunch. If we had a formal dining room we all sat down together at the "dining room table". If we didn't like what was put on our plate, we were allowed to sit there until we did like what was put on our plate. Due to this discipline, my partner in life eats just one thing at a time, leaving the least liked for last. My grandparents never owned their own house, played golf, traveled far from "home". Credit cards were called "on the cuff". Levis were overalls; most of them were "bib-overalls". Though I had played that strange game, soccer, when I was nine years old, my parents never drove me to practice. [We didn't own a car until I was old enough to be licenced to drive.] We used bicycles; one speed [slow] ones that were very heavy. Even thin tired "English Racers" were one speed. Remember the pant leg clips to prevent your cuffs getting caught in the chain sprocket? My very first job was delivering magazines to barber shops. Then I was promoted to delivering newspapers. I have read that newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers. I imagine by noting the membership in the "Old Newsboys" organizations that this is close to a true statement. I loved delivering newspapers. I made a bit more than 28 percent profit. Papers cost seven cents to buy and I got to keep two cents. I got up early and had them delivered before the sun rose. I had the rest of the day for me ... except on Saturdays. Saturday was "collection" day. How I moaned and whined about people who never seemed to be home on that day. Do you remember "soda pop"?? The dispensers were "coolers" and the bottles were accessed by lifting the lid and sliding a glass bottle along a track to the lever, which when certain coins were registered allowed one to "lift" the bottle out of the cooler. You are not so old if you remember "butch wax", but I'd venture you to be a bit older if you remember mustache wax. As a boy I didn't know what socket wrenches were. My family's tool chest consisted of a saw, a hammer, a screw driver [no Phillips head], a pair of pliers, and a crescent wrench. We built or repaired everything with these. Speaking of making things; when our roller skates wore out, we recycled them by making two by four scooters. Growing up just isn't the same! e-la-di-e-das-di ha-wi nv-wa-do-hi-ya nv-wa-to-hi-ya-da. (May you walk in peace and harmony) Wado, Bill -=- PostScript: = = = = http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/SOIL http://archiver.rootsweb.com/th/index/ILMASSAC http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ne/state/BillsArticles/LittleEgypt/intro.html