Saturday Afternoon

We took my mother-in-law Marie antiquing yesterday afternoon. At 85 years old she is not looking for antiques, but just getting an idea of the value of what she already owns.

She has a house, garage, and basement full of antiques, neatly organized.

We went to an antique mall where there are booths. We went booth after booth. Studying things. I never seen so many things that we once considered clutter and eager to get of – now are expensive marketable items. Old wood Coke cases we couldn’t give away, now they are $$$$ (plus tax). Old signs, old everything.

In one booth I was a bit intrigued by the “Colored Only” sign and the “Colored people go to the rear” sign. And the “White Only” and the “Colored Not Allowed In”. What I thought was interesting, I don’t think these signs were old. They looked brand new. All fresh white paint and black paint. The signs were uniformly made with the same format, same size letters, the letters were indented and black – the background was white. I suspect somebody bought came across a sign making machine and printed off a bunch that people might want to buy as antiques, and remembrances of those “good old days”.

Afterwards we had dinner at a country cooking kind of restaurant. Their food attracts the elderly native Cobb Countians. Their food is much like they remember their parents and grandparents cooked – especially the fried chicken.

The joint is totally ran by Asians. The Asians has learned grandma’s cooking secrets. And now can cook more like grandma than grandma can.

I saw one guy I was in high school with. If I didn’t know him I would estimate him to be about 85 years old. He walked slow and stooped over. He looked terrible serious. He was a grade ahead of me. That would make him about 66.

He was the serious-student type. He was the kind that carried his personal slide-rule on his belt.

I noticed over the past several years that those who took their studies seriously and did little play in high school are aging quicker than they should. On the other hand, those of us who just got by and stayed in trouble, we still seem to like to do things, walk at a faster pace, love our oldies music, and seem to be having a good time.

Is it that we have an image we are maintaining or does all that serious studying as a youth age you more than nature intended?

At another table was a husband and wife, middle age. The husband seemed like he was in some kind of religious trance. He would look up in the heavens and his lips moved…. Sometimes he would smile like he and whoever he was directing his communicating to like they just had an agreement… then he would start muttering again.

His wife was more interested in her food then what profound discussions her husband was having with a supreme being. Occasionally she would glance at him, or study him a minute, her gnawing on a fried chicken leg while he was making a point to an unseen deity.

Another man, probably in his 40s, was alone and seemed to be flirting with the waitress. When we came in his plate was about half full. When we left, his plate was still about half food.