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It is my sincere desire to provide readers of this site with the best unbiased information available, and a forum where it can be discussed openly, as our Founders intended. But it is not easy nor inexpensive to do so, especially when those who wish to prevent us from making the truth known, attack us without mercy on all fronts on a daily basis. So each time you visit the site, I would ask that you consider the value that you receive and have received from The Burning Platform and the community of which you are a vital part. I can't do it all alone, and I need your help and support to keep it alive. Please consider contributing an amount commensurate to the value that you receive from this site and community, or even by becoming a sustaining supporter through periodic contributions. [Burning Platform LLC - PO Box 1520 Kulpsville, PA 19443] or Paypal
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To donate via Stripe, click here.
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Use promo code ILMF2, and save up to 66% on all MyPillow purchases. (The Burning Platform benefits when you use this promo code.)
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In the 1950’s starting when I was about four or five my dad would give me money to go and get him a pack of cigarettes.
Mr. ‘A’ knew what my brand dad smoked so all I would have to tell him was that I wanted a pack for my dad.
I forget what they cost. About a quarter or so, but dad always gave me one cent more so that when I went up to the corner store Mr. ‘A’ would give me a piece of bubble gum for me with along with dad’s cigarettes.
Imagine that happening today?
I’m so old, I remember talking on party lines, and thinking it sounded so much better than string and two tin cans. Listening to big bands and classical on the wax cylinder wind up Victrola. Turning on the TV and waiting for three minutes to warm up enough to see the picture. Looking forward to FM Stereo, it sounded so much better than FM mono. Looking forward “hi – tec” 8 track and the even more extravagant cassette tapes. I remember just going to the liquor store, walking or on a bike, on my own, san helmet, lights or reflectors, to get grandmother or grandpa’s booze and cigarettes, or his rolling papers and tobacco, to make his own, and the owner just “adding it to the monthly tab”. I remember having to hold the rabbits ears and ad ding wire coathangers to get a better signal. Hell, when all hangers were wire except the nice ones made of wood. When seeing anyone you or your family or friends didn’t know and being curious, not suspicious. I remember when they took lead out of paint and gasoline and thought it was a bad idea cuz lead made the paint stronger and made cars run smoother. And stag movies weren’t hunting shows…We’ll never see days like that again. And that’s a bad thing…
I’m so old, I remember what I was doing when Julius Caesar was assassinated (I was eating a fig).
I’m so old I remember when………………ahhh, nevermind
I’M SO OLD THAT…
Rest rooms are opportunities given strong consideration, before continuing my travels,
And,
Trusting that it’s only gas is foolish, lest the outcome results in an uncomfortably messy shart.
I’m so old that…
While browsing resale shops, to search for reusable items on the cheap, I understand why there are always multiple bags and boxes of Depends, donated by the heirs of our elders who’ve made their transition to a better place. Sigh…
I’m so old I remember not having a dial phone. We picked up the phone and made sure someone else wasn’t using it first. Then we said “Operator, give me export549 or I’d like to call this number collect”. The floor in the back seat of the car had enough room for 4 kids to play. The public resroom was pulling over and opening both doors and looking the other way while someone relieved their bladder.
So if someone tells you “OK, boomer” you can say “I ain’t no boomer”.
Baggs, there’s a video floating out there in the ether, where 2 millennials or Gen Z yutes are given the challenge of figuring out how to make a phone call with a rotary dial phone with a working, audible dial tone.
They are stumped. Not a clue.
Suds.
We tapped the little plastic knobs where the phone rested twice if we wanted the operator.
This the one?
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum
Ordo.
Nope. It didn’t have a dial. You just picked it up and tapped the little pegs that act as a cutoff switch when you hang up the receiver.
Flea….
I meant to post that for Suds. I don’t remember one like you describe. My aunt Marg had one with the ear piece hanging on the side, and she would pick it up and click the little cradle arms that held it a couple a times, and talk into the front piece when an operator came on..
I remember it was as simple as “ring Emma for me, please” (my aunt Emma lived about 6 houses south). She had to have a number if she called one of my other aunts across the river in Kansas, but still had to get the operator the same way.
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum <—==
We may be getting close to the point where 'they' know who we want to call before we do.
That’s the one I saw, Ordo.
Thx for digging it up.
Ordo.
It looked like the one in the picture but without the dial and they were like model T-Fords. You could get them in any color you wanted as long as it was black.
When I was a kid, I’d work at my grandfather’s wholesale business. We were in Allentown, PA – about half way between Philly and NYC. I used to place a lot of long distance calls – before there were area codes. I’d call the operator and ask her to connect me to the city, and then the phone number.
We stocked a lot of refrigeration valves, controls. When someone in NYC needed an important part – one of our drivers would take the package to the bus terminal – that was express delivery in 1964. I remember a Chicago hospital needed a big 6″ valve – we bought that valve an air line seat.
Or I snuck into my dad’s desk drawer to look at his Playboy ,that showed only boobs .
Buck.
The lingerie section of the Sears catalog in the outhouse was our playboy. The women had some meat on their bones back then.
I’m so old I rode a bike without a helmet, walked down the train tracks and bought smokes for my folks at the U’totem, was taught to address elders as “sir” or “ma’am”, had to learn math and spelling and geography in school, was not taught about trans-genderism and anal sex in health class, played outdoors till dark or a little after, sports and warfighting and other adventures took place with suitable acoutrements in the great outdoors and not on a video monitor, and if you wanted a trophy or ribbon or other accolades you had to earn it.
I am so old that I have gone from adjusting points and rebuilding carburetors to patching software with a laptop.
Went from test light to digital storage scopes. Manual steering gearboxes to electric steering.
My latest toy to check for draws in electrical systems is a FLIR camera. You can trace the hot wires to the short in minutes.
JIMSKI
I’m so old I remember women being allowed to age gracefully and the rural women were called country big. They worked their asses off and needed some bulk to make it through the year.
I’m so old we got held back in school if you did not meet established goals…. except for Danny he was retarded.
That’s horse shit. I’ve done all those things and I’m in my 40s. That’s old??? I can’t help it if my father’s ’77 Rabbit had an 8-track… 🙂
@article We’re having fun.
I know, I was kidding.
AOC.
You used a Party Line phone?
Flea, it was an upgrade in my house when we got a push-button phone mounted on the wall in the kitchen. It was an upgrade when Dad’s shitty antenna wouldn’t make the grunting noises when you adjusted the dial.
I’m old(er). It just takes me a while to open up about life experiences and personal details. It’s due to my…previous “life”. That’s why I let digs like from SAO go under the radar. Better to shut up and keep your cards close to the vest. People know only what I want them to know. We knew never to have social media accounts, for example. Ever. 🙂 I’ve actually broken a couple of cardinal rules and divulged TOO much at times on here because I genuinely care about people and want them to know they’re not alone.
I remember seeing gas being 29 cents a gallon at a gas station. I told some kids at work about how I would strap my rifle to my bicycle and ride down the street to go out shooting. They were amazed that anyone actually did that.
I’m so old when I knew what time it was I saw Doody on the TV and I said Howdy…I was one of the peanuts in the gallery, and my first crush was on a comely Princess named Winter Spring Summer Fall.
One of my hero’s was Tom because he was terrific!
I’m so old I thought Linux o/s was that guy from Charlie Brown. I looked it up. Diana Ross and the Supremes “Get Ready” on 4 track anyone?
I’m so old I remember when the adults didn’t like foreigners.
I’m so old I had a crush on Annette. Ask me who she is and I’ll know you’re gay.
Didn’t we all?
I’m so old a gassers were still cool when I was a kid.
I saw Elvis…live. I must be so old that I fart dust
I am, TOTGAF…