It's a Whole New World! Where Am I? What Day Is it? Never Mind That, What Century Is It?

Where am I? What day is it? Never mind that, what century is it? I often feel I was abducted, stuffed into a time machine, and unceremoniously dumped out in the far distant future.

Right Gottex Bathing Suits on show: Government Press Office

It’s very confusing. The inhabitants of this new environment look similar to those I knew in the late 1900’s and early 2000’s; but a lot is different. Their clothes, for example. Many of these people (especially the young) are dressed in rags — jeans with gaping holes in the knees and frayed hems. Also, a large number of them have a myriad of multi-colored tattoos covering their arms, legs, and other body parts that I had never before seen exposed but which are now unashamedly visible.

In addition, many of these aliens (which is how I perceive them — certainly they must be from another planet) have strange hair. It’s often purple, pink, or multi-colored and apparently has never been brushed or combed. It stands on end or is twisted into various snarled configurations. And they must have major problems going through airport security metal detectors because of all the “decorative” hardware piercing their tongues, eyebrows, navels, nipples, and noses. Ouch!

Another oddity — everyone today walks around clutching a water bottle in one hand and a tiny, flat, rectangular object that they claim is a telephone in the other. Huh? If that’s a telephone, no wonder they have no idea what we mean when we tell the to “hang up the phone” or if we complain that the phone is “ringing off the hook.” They are also baffled when we talk about “dialing” a number.

But then we are equally bewildered when they complain that someone has “ghosted” them or they describe something as “dope” or “lit.” And there’s no use trying to learn their language because it will be obsolete by Tuesday and replaced with entirely new gobbledygook.

If these kids were transported back to the past, they would be lost. Literally. No GPS back then. We had to rely, instead on large, unwieldy, impossible-to-refold road maps or high-tech (for that era) AAA TripTiks — a series of spiral-bound map segments which divided even cross-country jaunts into small, manageable bits.

And while many of my generation are unfamiliar with same-sex couples, Siri, Alexa, Google, Bixby or a tech support guy or gal, our grandkids never met a bowling alley pin boy, an elevator operator, a milkman, an iceman, a movie theater usher, or a virgin bride. Nor do they have to watch a movie sitting upright in an uncomfortable narrow seat in a crowded row, often behind someone tall who blocks most of the screen. And they would be very disappointed that all they could have to eat was popcorn or a candy bar — no burgers, tacos, fries, or a full-course dinner if that’s what their taste buds craved and their allowances could stretch to cover. Fortunately, today those allowances are exponentially higher than the 25 cents a week I considered a windfall.

Even more punishing than spartan rations at the movies would be the paucity of TV channels to choose from at home and having to watch them on a 10-inch black and white screen — and, worse yet, not having a remote and being forced to trek across four feet of shag carpeting to change the channel. They would probably phone Child Protective Services and report their parents for abuse.

As for that carpeting, my teen years bedroom floor was actually covered in orange shag which I thought was beautiful. Certainly much prettier than a bare floor. Though today shiny hardwood is prized, back then we considered it ugly and couldn’t wait to cover it with plush carpeting if we could possibly afford it. Wall-to-wall was a status symbol, Baby. As was colorful, patterned wallpaper. In that era no self-respecting wall would be seen dressed only in a coat of paint.

Another thing that perplexes today’s youth is the pay phone — a cumbersome apparatus either hanging on the wall of a public building or, even stranger, enclosed in a shower-stall-like box. When these disappeared, we old-timers wondered where Clark Kent would go to transform into Superman.

If today’s kids saw us boarding a plane way back when, they would assume we must be flying to attend a royal wedding or equally posh affair. No jeans, tee shirts, or sneakers for us no matter what the purpose of our trip. The journey itself was a special occasion, and we dressed for it. Suits, shirts and ties for the men; and for the women, frilly frocks, girdles, stockings (with seams up the back that were a challenge to keep straight), sometimes even hats and white gloves, and always high-heeled shoes which were de rigueur even while sightseeing when we arrived at our destination. Comfort be damned.

I traipsed the seven cobble-stoned hills of Rome in high heels. I was in agony, but I looked stylish. And we were certainly overdressed on European beaches in our skirted one-piece bathing suits. Bikinis hadn’t yet made it across the pond when I took my first trip to the French Riviera, but they were brazenly prevalent there. Body parts previously seen only by surgeons and spouses decorated the sands and sea. I couldn’t believe it! I knew my friends back home wouldn’t either, so I surreptitiously attached my close-up lens onto my camera (no easy zoom back then) to snap some evidence. Today we see more skin on shoppers at the supermarket than I did on that beach in Nice.

Yes, the times they are a-changin’. Wonder what life will be like a decade or two from now. Maybe instead of large, flat-screen smart TVs, 3D life-size images will materialize in our living rooms on demand, and those living rooms will transform into a tropical beach, a Parisian sidewalk café, a gondola in the Grand Canal — or any other location we ask Alexa or her successor to summon.

Unfortunately, at my age I won’t be here to experience these wonders unless someone invents a miraculous rejuvenation process.

Hey, it’s possible! I just hope they also conjure up a money machine to finance my extended stay.

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It's a Whole New World! Where Am I? What Day Is it? Never Mind That, What Century Is It?

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