By Cynthia (Walker) Burton
It occurs to me that many items that were around when I was a “little shaver” are now obsolete. Typewriters, the rotary dial phone, manual car door windows, the yellow plastic circle inside a 45 rpm record, slide rulers, the driver side floor button in an auto to activate high beams, cars manufactured without seatbelts, ash trays on airplanes, tv antenna, jukeboxes, tape recorders, cassette tapes, VHS tapes, VCRs, inexpensive sneakers, the Sears Christmas catalog, ice cube trays with a flip handle to dislodge the cubes, gas station attendants, rubber galoshes with funky buckles worn over your shoes, Pan Am and TWA Airlines, Woolworth’s, mood rings, picnic baskets, rabbit’s foot key chains, toys in cereal boxes, paper kites, metal lunch boxes, coffee percolators, Sony Walkman, slide projectors, hour glass, Discman CD player, cobblestone main streets, tv cathode ray tube, pinball machines, penny candy, soda machines dispensing glass bottles, and the list goes on.
They’ve all gone the way of the dinosaur. Here today, gone tomorrow. New today, old tomorrow. Improvements are made, next generation is introduced, futuristic looms. Irreplaceable becomes replaceable. Absolutes become obsolete.
Does anything stay the same in this high tech, high stakes, ever evolving, ever changing and tech-obsessed world? Yes. Love. Love is love is love. All you need is love. It will never be obsolete. And that’s an absolute.