Is it possible that I am an old-timer? Let’s start with the definition of the word. I have a trusted longtime reference companion in red binding, Webster’s New World Dictionary (Third College Edition). It defines the word as, “a person who has been a resident, employee, member, etc. for a long time.”
Guess that could be me – a resident of Earth for 68 years, worked at the Library of Congress for nearly 41 years, and a member of the human race ever since August 12, 1955. So, I have checked a few of Webster’s boxes. But wait a second.
Back when I was an elementary school age kid just starting to learn about the world, an old-timer was a person who would share information about things that occurred in the far distant past. When someone would describe life in the great depression of the 1930s or listening to radio programs back in the days before television, it felt like they were providing a history lesson about a bygone era.
A world without television seemed unimaginable. After all, we were highly advanced in our Philly household of the 1960s, with a console black and white TV providing access to the three local network stations (ABC, NBC and CBS), plus the local public television station. We were living in the future!
It has gradually dawned on me that those folks who were reminiscing about the 1930s when I was a kid in the 1960s were actually describing recent times. They just seemed like ancient times to me.
Barbara and I love to watch Jeopardy and scream out our often incorrect responses. However, when it gets to categories such as 1970s music or celebrities of that era, we are truly masters. When the three contestants of the day seem to have no idea who Sam Ervin was or that an AMC Gremlin was a car model, we shake our heads sadly. Why don’t these people possess this common knowledge? I guess it’s because it happened half a century ago and it isn’t part of their life experience. It’s ancient history!
A few weeks ago, I was doing our weekly grocery shopping at Wegmans and picked a check-out line with an amiable looking young man at the register. He appeared to be about college age and greeted me in a friendly manner. As is my habit, I tried to strike up a conversation with him. The topic turned out to be the 15 little cans of Fancy Feast cat food that I had selected. He was having an issue with getting some of the barcodes to scan. That gave me an opening.
“You know, I was a cashier back before barcodes.” I stated proudly.
He looked at me in disbelief, and stated in a half question/half exclamation, “What?!”
“Yes, we had to key each price into to the register. A lot of mistakes were made. And each item had to be marked with a price. I did a lot of that, too.”
“That’s crazy!”
By then, he was nearly done with my order, and another customer had filled up the belt completely with his dozens of items, to which I pointed.
“Just imagine having to key in the price of each thing.”
The young man once again exclaimed, “That’s crazy,” as he handed me my receipt and this old-timer wished him well.