Wait, what was that?

I remember when I was a boy, no wait, when I was a girl, we had iceboxes instead of refrigerators. No wait, that was my mother. But anyway, I remember that the box was very cold and there was always melted ice water in the floor. Or was that my brother’s pee? He never liked to wear diapers and peed everywhere. But anyway there was a time when we didn’t have refrigerators, not a time I remember because we always had a refrigerator and it was gold, not real gold but harvest gold from Kenmore.

There was a time we didn’t have smart TVs. Not that they were dumb, challenged perhaps. My older brother used to smack the side of the TV set to get it to work. No, wait a minute, that was the side of my younger brother’s head.

We had to adjust the picture quality by placing rabbit ears on top of the TV set. Not actual rabbit ears because that would be gross and quite messy and they would probably be too floppy to get good reception. And the point if the ears was to get good reception, visual not hearing, although if they were called rabbit ears you would think it would be about volume which never seemed to be a problem.The volume was always turned up really loud because my grandmother was hard of hearing, no wait, that was my grandfather who was hard to deal with. And he could hear just fine, except when my grandmother spoke.

These rabbit ears were skinny silver antennae that you had to move to the right or the left or back or front to improve the picture. Well, actually, you didn’t have to move it because you weren’t there. It was usually my younger brother who had to do it for the half hour my older brother and I watched Lassie. And my younger brother would cry because he wanted to watch Lassie too, but my older brother would tell him he was too young to watch it and would warn him to not pee on the floor while holding the rabbit ears because he would electrocute himself. Ha, ha, the laugh’s on him because my younger brother is now an electrician. No, wait a minute, that’s my mother, and she’s a beautician.

Anyway, phones weren’t smart either and they had these long, coiled lines attached that could strangle you if you weren’t careful or your older brother was around.

I had to dial the numbers by sticking my fingers in the corresponding holes until we got touch tone and there were no holes.

I had to remember people’s phone numbers in my head because there was no place to store them and I still remember my childhood phone number- (413)447-9190. No, wait a minute, that’s my chiropractor’s number, don’t know if it was his childhood number.He is pretty old.

We had a party line but it was never much of a party because Mrs. Hyde liked to complain a lot and wasn’t much fun, particularly when she said, “Hey you kids, get off this party line.” She’s a party pooper if you ask me, not that you asked.

And there was no such thing as a computer. You had to look up stuff in old books with yellowed pages and dead bugs squished between the pages. At that point I decided I’d rather be dumb than to flick off dead bugs so I stayed dumb until I got that PHD in Nineteenth Century English literature and thankfully some other students flicked the bugs off those old books or I never would have finished my dissertation on Pride or Prejudice: Choose One. I’m pretty sure I chose pride. Or was it prejudice? Oh well, either one works. Well, I guess not now, because prejudice isn’t such a good thing. Pride’s not great either. So I guess I choose neither. Do I have to give the degree and the funny hat back? That would be a shame because I like to wear the hat for Easter decorated with eggs.

I teach at a college when it’s not summer. That’s when I have ice cream for breakfast and watch I Love Lucy reruns. I think I watched it as a kid but I don’t remember because frankly, I was a kid and my older brother changed the channel a lot.

Oh, I remember what my younger brother does for a living- he’s a urologist. My older brother says it’s a good job for him because he’s always pissed off, about what we will never know.

The three of us go to the cemetery a lot to visit dead people some of whom we know I think. We leave early because the conversation always drags, like the wrapped body my older brother brought in last week.

Some day the three of us will be underground and it won’t be digging tunnels. Well, maybe my cousin, he likes to dig.

I had a point in sharing these stories but I’m not as sharp as I used to be.

I was pretty sharp back then but my mother told me I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Perhaps the second sharpest.

Oh yes, the point of this story is I like modern times. No, not the movie because no one talks in it and it doesn’t seem very modern to me.

I like modern technology. When it works. When it doesn’t work it doesn’t seem all that smart to me. Alexa says she doesn’t have a favorite color. How can someone not have a favorite color? And she won’t tell me who to vote for. And she’s the smart one?

My Tv turns off if I fall asleep after five hours. Perhaps I wanted to watch the ending. If it were so smart it would have known that. And my smart refrigerator should know enough to keep the ice in the glass and not bounce it on the floor where someone could slip and fall and sue the refrigerator company. Doesn’t sound too smart to me.

Anyway, I’ve got to go. Visit my brother in prison. Have a nice day, or is it good day? Have a nice, good day, or a good nice day.

Either way it works.