Originally Posted Monday, October 14, 2013
Here is a photo I took back in the 1950s. Things were spicy then. Things were fun. This is one of my mother's friends being naughty one day while baby sitting. I hated it when she moved away. I think she changed my perspective on things. Thank god for instant film. It wasn't until I was in college that my mother found the photographs. There was nothing she could do by then. Still, I don't think my mother liked it. I never thought they were dirty pictures, though. No nudity. Just dressing up. I thought the woman looked like one of Tarzan's girlfriends. Funny how kids think.
The old world slips away, though, no matter what you do. The International Herald Tribune is now The International New York Times. Just like that. You wake up one day and a hallmark is gone. If you never had the chance to sit in a cafe in some European capital drinking coffee and reading the Herald Tribune. . . you missed it. I will never get to do that again. Soon it will be like it never existed. Kids will look at you like you just said Walkman if you mention it. They don't love the better parts of the past the way we did. Well. . . love is a squirrely word there. I'm certain that love isn't the same any longer either. Loving to hip-hop and rap beats can't be the same as loving to a "Fly Me to the Moon." The emotional response just has to be different. I think someone needs a grant to prove this physiologically. I've been watching "Masters of Sex," and I'm all for that. Nobel Prize stuff.
But I lose myself. A brioche and the Herald Tribune are a different thing. And I am as sad as I was when my mother's friend moved away. Thank heavens I still have pictures.
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