Author:
Yesterday, was the weekly shopping day. Being a Sunday, I dressed up a little more than I might have any other day. I was wearing a charcoal gray skirt that hit just below the knee and similarly colored top with faux jacket and light grey patterned front and long black coat. My make up was simple; true brown mascara and lipstick.
I was in the cereal aisle and attempted to pick up two Quaker Simply Granola in one hand.
The boxes didn't stand the strain and clasped. Granola is a heavy cereal. I managed to catch one and the other fell on the floor. As I went bend down to pick it up, a late thirties/early forties gentleman rushed over and signaled me not to bend over. He bent down, pick up the box and handed it to me.
I was astonished. I managed to mumble a thank you and we went on our separate ways. I guess that chivalry is not dead after all and heroic knights no longer ride white chargers.
Comments
You spotted a rare "Dutiful Son"
One that was trained by a mother much like my own. Mark that down in your gentleman journal. They are a rarity on some locales.
Ron
Certainly not!
Why, you can get a ‘23 Charger GT for just $44,805 MSRP!
Actually, as I write that mind-boggling sum for a mid-sized sedan manufacturered by Dodge, another reason for the disappearance of knights errant occurs to me . . . .
— Emma
Car Cost
My first car was a '54 dark blue Buick. It cost $85. I called it the "Tide" because it tended to roll into a parking space with the majesty of a changing sea. I tried to jump a ten foot span where a bridge was unmarked and surprisingly out and ripped out the undercarriage. Don't believe what you see in the movies. A four thousand pound car will not "leap."
My second car cost $75. It was a '57 Chevy. It should be mandatory for everyone to own a '57 Chevy at some point in their lives. I drove it across Canada and back. It died gracefully the weekend I separated my shoulder and could no longer stand the pain of overcoming it's lack of power steering.
My first new car was a tricked out Maverick. It came for $2,850 off the dealer's floor. A year later I got my first corporate car and drove fleet vehicles for the next almost fifty years.
Gas was .36 a gallon when I bought that first new car. Adjusted for inflation gas has increased in cost about twenty percent in the last fifty years. So please cut back on the unwarranted bitching about the cost of gas.
Compared to that "fully-loaded" Maverick my current Suburu seems like something you would only see in a Bond movie in 1970. But then - people didn't try to use their phones while driving in 1970 because the longest cord you could get was about twenty feet.
Jill
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
I've got you beat
My first car was a '53 Plymouth. I paid $20.00 for it. It needed a battery and I had to use the emergency brake to stop on the way home because it had sat so long that the brake fluid had evaporated. The paint was oxidized and the front seat fabric had worn holes in it.
Bleed the brakes (read flush the brake system), some rubbing compound and a lot of elbow grease, a new slip on seat cover and a set of cheap used tires and I sold it for $50.00. I was working my first job as a service station attendant so the tires came out of the bone pile and I got them for nearly nothing.
Gas prices? This was the 60s. We had gas wars. Prices under 20 cents/gallon were the norm and the lowest I saw was $0.099 per gallon.
My next car was a '49 Chrysler and it was given to me on the condition that I could get it running and drive it off the property. Put a couple of gallons of gas in the tank, primed the carb with lighter fluid and the thing fired up. It had been sitting in a field so long that the muffler had rusted completely away. I put a piece of down spout in its place and drove it with straight pipes.
My first new car was a 70 Maverick. I bought for hamburger prices. Hamburger was selling at 99 cents a pound and the Maverick had a curb weight of 2000 pounds; I bought for $2000. I put 120K miles on it before I replaced it with a 79 Datsun 510 wagon.
Hugs
Patricia
Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt
Ich bin ein femininer Mann
Back the Horses Up
Where did I fall off the Turnip Wagon in this conversation? Patrica posted a nice blog about being fashionably attired before going to pick up groceries. I love it as she is sharing encouragement with other ladies to put on a little class before going out into the public view. The result she was treated as a lady.
Emma parachutes into the conversation about the cost of vehicles. Which try as I might I could not fathom from where in her over exuberant writer's mind she sidestepped into the conversation with that one? Anyone else catch the leap across the chasm from fashion to price of cars? I know I'm slow and probably the most dense person here being a poor old dumb milk maid, farm girl but...
Hugs Patrica
Barb
We'll let Emma and Angela wonder in the Wilderness together with that one. I don't know what they been drinking and smoking but I don't want any.
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl
My fault
I finished off with a comment about chivalry not being dead and knights not riding white chargers. I have to admit as I posted it I thought about Dodge Chargers as well.
Knowing Emma, it was a small leap for her and I wasn't surprised that it turned up.
Hugs
Patricia
Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt
Ich bin ein femininer Mann
Yes, indeed!
In the distant past, Dodge Chargers roamed the land, wild and, if not exactly free, at least cheap enough that almost any enterprising lad could afford one. Thus were many bold knights empowered. But in these latter days, alas! Only nobles may afford such a beast, or at very least, those caught upon the messy border between the upper middle and lower upper classes. And thus it is that in many safe ways, aye, and Kroegers, too, and markets of all sorts, distressed damsels are left to pick up their own granola, as well as other excellent and weighty sources of dietary fiber . . . .
— Emma
Okay I'm With You Now
1952 Flathead Ford. My brother went into the service and gave it to me on a verbal agreement. Painted it two tone, red body white top. Spray painted the steering wheel white with enamel paint. The only vehicle with a white steering wheel as at that time all vehicles had a black steering wheel. Received more compliments and questions about the steering wheel than anything else. Upholstered the seats in white, door liners white, put a 58 Ford grill in it.
Brother came home on leave, looked the car over and claimed it. Took it with him when he left again, sold it as soon as he got to his base. Over the years he has tried be a brother as he really was trying to con me on other things. Informed him we would get together again at his funeral. I'm positive neither his wife nor his kids will let me know when that happens.
Next car was a 59 Ford Galaxie Fairlane 500. 292 engine, three on the column with an overdrive. OneHundredTwenty on the speedometer but it would go way past that. Painted it midnight blue with metallic flakes.
Barb
For some, blood kin needs some bleach.
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl