By Sheila Edee*
I try to keep up with the latest customs, fashions and goings-on. I really do. But sometimes, I wonder why.
News item: It seems there was a burglary in Naples, Fla. While thieves eschewed the homeowner’s wide-screen plasma TV, his VCR, and even his Rolex watch, they took a generic cardboard box filled with a grayish-white powder.
To their practiced eyes, it must have looked like high-grade cocaine. They probably thought they’d hit the big time.
But the next day, the homeowner stood in front of the TV cameras and pleaded with the burglars: “Please return the cremated remains of my sister, Gertrude. She died three years ago.”
Next morning, the bullet-riddled corpse of a local drug dealer known as “Hoochie” was found on the homeowner’s doorstep, with the cardboard box and about half of Gertrude’s ashes.
Scotch-taped to the box was a note: “Hoochie sold us the bogus blow, so we wasted Hoochie. Sorry we snorted your sister. No hard feelings. Have a nice day.”
You know, that sort of thing just didn’t HAPPEN in the olden days. I’m still trying to decide if that’s good or bad.
I’ve read about a trend among the hormonally-challenged youth of today: co-ed slumber parties. Imagine! I remember slumber parties as being wonderful events at which the last thing anybody would ever want would be a person of the male persuasion in the vicinity!
I remember one friend who was the eternal flame that never extinguished whenever two or more were gathered in bunny slippers. For some reason, she rolled up her squeezable, naturally-curly blonde ringlets in white anklets every night. Then she would hop from bunk to trunk to bunk, in the attic of a hollow-eyed hostess, probably because she couldn’t sleep with all those knotted, extra-mercerized cotton blobs pressing on her brain stem. No one sane would want a BOY around witnessing that!
Then there are these classified ads for “Men Seeking Women,” “Women Seeking Men,” and “Whatever Seeking Whatever,” as well as these online matchmaking services. I can’t get over this. They must work, as a lot of happily-married couples seem to be testifying about the loss of their lovelorn-ness through this high-tech matchmaking and these cyberspatial introductions.
But it’s not all dandy. I just read a laugh-out-loud lament from a disappointed damsel, who is looking for a mate. She admits she has “attitude” and is 40-ish. (“Ish.” Key.) The corker was that she wrote that she lives in the West . . . “where the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
When those matches are made, and wedding “innovations” ensue, that’s when my lovely locks do, often, stand on end. The things that brides (and their mothers) can think of to bend longstanding rules of etiquette into carnival pretzels! We used to go by these few Rules For Weddings:
In our day, if you didn’t keep it simple and conventional, four ministers, three choir directors, two wedding planners, one organist, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree would suffer massive coronaries.
But I need to get with it. At least new technology can be captivating, and we didn’t have much of that in the olden days. I feel a song coming on:
We’ll Have FFF (Fun, Fun, Fun) Now That Granny’s Texting!
ATD: At The Doctor’s
BTW: Bring The Wheelchair
BYOT: Bring Your Own Teeth
CBM: Covered By Medicare
For pure amusement, I enjoy the new generation getting all excited about “discovering” fashions that the old generations – and I do mean old – already discovered, eons ago. Nowhere more than fashion does the adage “There’s nothing new under the sun” ring true.
When I was a young mother, I thought smocked dresses and Peter Pan collars were just the latest thing. Of course, both date back for centuries.
But all these piercings and tattoos that people are sporting . . . do they have a clue that they date back to SLAVERY in the ancient world?!? Now, THAT’S old.
You have to stay on your toes. One of the grand-teens was being cute the other day. She emailed me an eBay ad for some colorful “Beaded Nipple Rings.”
With her birthday coming up, one just never knows.
* Sheila Edee is one of The Elderberries. She writes from her home in Georgia, which she shares with some very adorable dachshunds, who will never go out of style.
By Sheila Edee • www.LifeWithTheElderberries.com • © 2019