“When I Was a Kid …” by “Crotchety Old Man” (Gordon Cobb)

24 Oct “When I Was a Kid …” by “Crotchety Old Man” (Gordon Cobb)

There comes a time in life when, despite our best efforts not to, we end up sounding just like our parents or grandparents did to us when we were younger. If we are honest with ourselves, we all likely said in our youth that we would never let this happen, but it still does – and often with greater regularity as we get older (at least something is “regular” as we age – hah). The story below represents one of these times. Specifically, the hot water heater at the office failed overnight, causing a small flood and the replacement heater installation was delayed as we waited for an insurance review. In the interim, the majority of our staff, many of whom are Gen X or younger, struggled with the idea of hand washing kitchenware until the connection to the dishwasher was re-established. Between simply leaving dirty dishes sitting in the sink or just putting them into the dishwasher until such time that the dishwasher “genie” magically appeared to clean them, we basically ran out of clean plates, coffee mugs and utensils. Did anyone roll up their sleeves and do anything about it? The e-mail below that was sent out to the entire office should answer that question.

Now that I’ve become a grandfather, genetics compels me to tell “grandpa” stories. So sit down while I hitch my pants up above my navel and share the following with you “young-uns”:

When I was a kid …… we didn’t have a dishwasher (well we did, but Mom didn’t take too kindly to that appellation). Believe it or not, we had to wash the dishes BY HAND – in the sink – and then dry them BY HAND. When I was growing up, nobody used the term “pre-soak,” which we would have thought is the time just seconds before you were caught in a thunderstorm while playing outdoors. It certainly wasn’t splashing some water on dishes and leaving them in the sink for someone else to deal with. Now of course, when I shouted “BY HAND,” I didn’t literally mean by hand, those of us who lived close to the shore culled sponges from the ocean to clean the dishes and utensils, but we did have CLOTH towels for drying, imagine that. Perhaps you’ve not contemplated that PAPER towels work too, although I’ll admit they are better pick-er uppers than they are dryer off-ers. Some of the “rich kids” in our neighborhood had a contraption called a “dish rack” where they could apparently stack dishes to let them drip dry instead, but I lived on the wrong side of the tracks to have such luxury. I’m not saying we

are on the wrong side of the tracks, but we also have no dish racks here – so grab a (paper) towel. Now I can hear you saying, “but Grandpa, we don’t have any hot water to wash our dishes properly,” to which I say “shut your piehole kid – have you never thought to heat water in a microwave?” Sheesh, if we wanted hot water, we had to go split some wood and stoke the embers in the fireplace. But I digress. Until we get a replacement hot water heater in the breakroom (hear this now in my best “crotchety old man voice”): wash yer dang plates, cups and utensils (with soap and water, even if it’s cold), and shure as heck don’t be leavin’ ‘em jest settin’ in the sink like it’s somebody else’s responsibility to take care of it – or I’ll really have to give you a piece of my mind – what little is left of it, that is, because a lot of brain matter apparently mysteriously vanishes once you become a grandparent – you’ll come to find this out yerself some day – but take it on good authority from me; uh, where was I? Oh yeah, don’t slouch!

Next week, maybe I’ll spin another yarn about clotheslines, or perhaps about TVs that had no color or rotary-dial telephones attached by cords to the wall. You young-uns just don’t know how good you have it! So keep both yer noses and our dishware clean.