Old School vs. New School
How to hold on to “the good ol’ days”
We all live through our favorite pastimes disappearing, replaced by the newest invention or upgrade. Some are a welcome relief, and we often mourn for the return of others. It doesn’t have to be a competition or debate on Old School vs. New School but instead extracts the value and appreciation for what came before to honor its existence.
Handwritten Letters — Email
Some things in life profoundly imprint on how we will remember and reflect on our relationships. Laying down the touching words with a chosen wood pencil between my fingers sharpened to a specific point was just one step in an event worthy of saving. The infinite number of options on paper styles, weight, textures, and dimensions played its part in carefully choosing the type for the intended receiver of my handwritten letter. The simple act of licking the envelope, putting on a stamp, and walking to the mailbox felt like an accomplishment with tremendous purpose. Raising the mailbox flag was the exclamation point in satisfaction.
My mother always had us kids make handmade cards for my Grandparents and habitually expresses her gratitude that I continued that tradition with my children, as my Dad and she have been joyous recipients for many years. Any day I can open memory boxes filled with letters from friends, pen-pals in grade school, family announcements and Christmas cards, and my kids’ Mother’s Day cards with glitter, glue, and crayon drawings to delight.
The swiftness of email has forever changed how we do business and communicate with family who lives farther away. Location, timezone, and format are hardly a factor anymore. When I receive an email, I sometimes print it to hold it in my hand and imagine if it were handwritten and picture the writer speaking the words.
Paper Book — Kindle
I miss the days of strolling through book stores for hours, picking up endless softcover, hardcover, examining the jacket, and reading so many pages I should buy them all. The first crack opening a book elicits a beginning with more in store than the cover displays. Fingers flipping through the pages resisting a strong temptation to look ahead or the end for just a peek, is paused by a more eager need not to miss anything in the story. I can see how far I’ve read and the journey left to complete. Physically placing my bookmark (handmade from my child or a picture of them, ribbon from a gift, and some days a post-it with an unfinished to-do list) mid-story relaxes my mind and saves the story right where I need it to be.
The introduction of the kindle made my technically intelligent children blissful while I told my husband to never get one for me, respectfully. Some issues are possible glare when sitting outside or the measure of its charge, burdening the story flow. It is a nice compact size to fit in backpacks or purses and use for travel.
Phone Calls — Text
I am always grateful for the time taken by family or friends to make a personal phone call, leave a spoken message, and try again when unreachable. Instantly hearing someone’s voice puts a picture in my mind. I can pull up a chair as if they are in the room. I can listen to the sincerity, angst, anger, joy, or calmness in their voice and tone. I have the privilege of holding on to their vocal persona even after they are gone in my precious voicemail as a remembrance of my childhood answering machine tapes connected to landlines.
Texting has been a lifeline to communication with my kids, especially in their active lifestyles. Quick questions answered instantly, pictures shared, and multiple messages sent at once. My fingers fumbled through my learning curve with awkward keystrokes, and inappropriate sentences accidentally sent without rereading my messages. I have mostly corrected that unless sending a comparative picture as a rebuttal.
Shopping — Instacart, Delivery, Curbside Pickup
One of my fondest memories of shopping took place most late summers in my youth during our family’s summer visit to my Oma and Opa’s (German Grandparents) in Oklahoma. Our whole family would go to Ponca City to the local clothing store to try on as many clothes and shoes as they anticipated would get us through at least some of the upcoming school year on a budget. My Oma and Mom would have me come out of the dressing room after each outfit and twirl before adding it to the approved purchase pile or put it back on the rack. I remember my younger brother climbing through the garment carousels while my older brother made uncomplicated yes or no head nods to an outfit choice. This shopping trip was a family event with a sliding scale of patience needed and long remembered.
The best part of our shopping trip was on the way home. We would stop in Newkirk at Helmut’s Bakery. This generous and kind couple were also German immigrants arriving in America around the same time as my Mom, Uncle, Oma, and Opa and became lifelong friends. As we walk through the front door and head to the back of the store, I feel internal bliss as every inch of air around you fills with the wholesome fragrance and sweet smell of yeast expanding and sugar warming. Such a distinct aroma has the mental power to recreate those pleasant memories of days long gone. Sitting on their work stools where my feet couldn’t touch the floor, my fingers warmed by the smooth glaze of a fresh donut immediately after being made. This family shopping event would’ve been sadly a missed memory if we had the option to click on my order and stay home instead.
Instacart, delivery, curbside pickup are safeguards in another layer of protection in our health safety. The past 18 months have catapulted online shopping choices to historic highs. We’ve had less time traveling to the store, searching for items or alternatives if out of stock, standing in long checkout lines, and uncertain amounts of crowds to maneuver. Ease doesn’t always equal quality in our life story or add to remarkable memories we cherish and want to pass on.
Baking — Frozen/Box food, Drive-thru
My mind can skip around the years, remembering the smells of homemade baking ruminating in the house and seeping into each room even through closed doors. My Oma’s Pfeffernusse cookies were soft and crumbly morsels that left behind powdered fingerprints I couldn’t help but save for licking before washing my hands and grabbing more.
My Mom reserves Christmas time to batch bake her famous fudge, also passed down from my Oma. The perfect balance of sweetness to the richness in 2" x 2" squares transforms from a formed solid to a smooth velvet chocolatey texture when my mouth envelops it whole or, in rare instances, takes a small bite to savor it longer.
No matter how old my children get, leave home and return; my husband takes the time to prepare the recipe and roll out the dough for sugar cookies. The kids take part in using cookie cutters we have accumulated throughout their childhood. It is always an impressive gathering of grown kids in our tiny kitchen decorating their cookies and creating an intimate family space.
A few years ago, I had the pleasure of training as a Baker in our local Publix grocery store. It is a task full of challenge, skill, calculation, and risk on how the dough will perform with your guiding hands. I will always appreciate the rhythmic hum of the mixer, repeatedly rounding the loaves of soft, pliable bread dough while it calmed my thoughts as the sun rose and the store opened.
We all have seemingly endless things to do or places to be, and time to make a meal can get replaced by an assembly line drive-thru or frozen or boxed meal. Understandably, the activity night juggle gets shuffled beyond any regular dinner hour with extended responsibilities and less time, not multitasking. If a microwave meal takes more than a couple of minutes, it has become the norm to accept it’s not worth the time or effort. That drive-thru biscuit can be enjoyed with some of your homemade jam, though.
Flex/Mobile lifestyle — 9 to 5 job
Past generations carried some arbitrary unspoken rule that if you didn’t work a 9 to 5 job, then you had settled for less, you were less or just tinkering around till you found the job that checked that box.
When I was a kid and asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I remember many different answers. Figure skater, news anchor, doctor, journalist, restaurant owner, teacher, and that’s not all of them. We all have interests, inspirations, and callings. Some we train for and experience longer than others. A job, location, or purposeful service may benefit someone else and fulfill a need in ourselves. Opening more doors, whether peeking through or jumping through, we expose another side of ourselves that yearns to explore. We may expand on our ideas, build a business, or support one that encourages our journey. Our hearts may grow and seek other adventures or services in this one life we each have. The choice to step into different roles in your life for various reasons with no intended harm is not failure. It sees the beauty and blessings in so much variety to be a part of in this world that we want to share more. When I leave this world, I hope I would’ve lived through all the things I dreamt, served the masses, inspired others to pay it forward, and used my voice for those silent or who didn’t have one.
Family priorities have led many to choose work in a 9 to 5 job. That choice has financial stability, more on track with school hours or transporting kids, and flexibility in after school or work activities. A positive selection for a phase in life, prescriptive timeframe, or decades career doesn’t earn a superiority medal.
Measuring a whole and prosperous life is beyond any monetary wealth by valuing purposeful service, personal time with family and friends, passion-driven opportunities, and genuinely contributing to a better world for our neighbors, all the brothers, and sisters in this world.
Final Thoughts with a call to action
Time and distance can’t erase a shared moment, whether a laugh or cry. Save time in your day to sit down, pick up your phone and call a friend or family member, listen, memorize their voice and honor their time spent with you.
Pick up some special paper, sharpen your pencil, sit in a quiet space and write to an old friend or family you have missed, or send a sweet hello.
Invite your family to shop for groceries with you at your local Farmer’s market, lured by the glorious multitudes of scents and activity around you.
Enjoy the symphony of sights and sounds as you stroll through supporting your local bakery in the bustling morning hours.
Visit your town’s library, check out some favorite collection of books from childhood or a new one that peak’s your interest or inspiration. Search for a community “Take a book, Give a book” stand or build your own to share.
Talk to your family and decide together on a sentimental recipe to bake this week. Reminisce on the origin and festive stories behind its sentiment.
Take a day off to pick up an old hobby, try something new, or explore your town. Reset your 9 to 5 clock, even for a day. Who’s values and priorities do you lift higher in the 24 hours of your day?
Hold on to the “good ol’ days” with total commitment, worthwhile enjoyment, and lasting rewards to write home about.
Thank you for reading. If you would like to support me in contributing to this wonderful writing community and other passion projects, you can buy me a coffee at www.buymeacoffee.com/NSponsel so I have more stamina to fuel my day for better writing ahead.
Check out a fellow writer’s heartwarming story by Thomas Ott.
