THE ICE MAN COMETH (to NEW JERSEY)

During my early teen years the month of April was change-over time in our New Jersey home, not exactly a high-tech change, but change nevertheless.

In our kitchen we had an ICE BOX and a WINDOW BOX. The free-standing ice box (about 6'x3'x3') was wooden, well-insulated, and with a space on top for a block of ice. Our metal window box sat outside our kitchen window. It was the width of the window and was nailed to the sill with additional outside support underneath.

From October 1^st until early April we put perishable foods into the window box where it was refrigerated by the cold New Jersey winter. Getting the food from the box onto the kitchen table without chilling the kitchen was an art unto itself. An additional art was scooping snow from the box top and putting it down my mother's back!

In April we changed to the inside ice box. The ice man would appear in his stake-body truck, chip off a block of ice to fit out box and bring it into the kitchen on a padded shoulder while us kids climbed onto the truck and put ice chips into paper cups. Let me tell you that there was nothing, nothing more refreshing on a hot summer day than that cup of ice.

So you see, dear readers, how much you have missed by being younger than me? You never had the opportunity to open up that cold box, never had the chance to drain the melted water from the ice box. Instead, you mundanely push buttons to cool the house, grind the coffee beans, make ice cubes and so on.

Today's technology has robbed you of the daily living challenges that I experienced, oh, so long ago.

More, later.

Remembering the Past

Remembering the Past

musings: saying or thinking reflectively (Webster)

The human brain is a wonderful thing. I know, because I have been using mine for many, many years. Know what I like most about my brain? It's the part that gives me the ability to remember the past.

I can remember as far as back as my fifth year on the planet. Two eventful happenings were my first memories.

One summer day I decided to eat a red, ripe tomato from my dad's garden patch. I took a large five-year-old bite and while looking at the tomato I saw a piece of a wriggling worm! I ran screaming to my mother that I had bitten a worm in half. Her calming instructions were "spit it out," which I did. Life's lesson #1: Be calm and think it through.

The second event took place when, as a kindergarten I boarded a bus to travel to school. Because there was no bus to bring me home at noontime, I went directly into first grade. During one typical New Jersey snowy winter day the school closed early. Somehow I missed the bus, or there was no bus so I walked the 3.4 miles home. When I arrived home and walked into the apartment my startled mother said, "What are you doing home so early, and why are you all wet?!" "I missed the bus, Mom, so I walked home." She began to cry and hugged me 'til my breath was about gone. The next morning she was on the public telephone to the school. I suspect that her Irish temper just about melted the phone lines. I never walked home again. Life's lesson # 2: If you need help ask for it.

How I knew in which direction to walk home I can never explain, but I have been good at directions ever since.

Good direction-finding hasn't always been in our family. I still chuckle when I recall driving incidents with my dad. When my folks decided that they had had enough of Florida, I flew down to drive them back to New Jersey. Every time we left a restaurant, with my dad driving, we would stop at the highway entrance, and he would say, "Which way?"

Today, when dear wife and I travel the highways we alternate behind the wheel. She enjoys driving while depending on me to navigate. Fine with me. I like reading maps, don't you?

More, later.