Anyone seen my buggy whip?
We are in the midst of a minor monsoon season in Birmingham. My cheap, plastic, backyard rain-gauge has measured over 4.5" of rain since Sunday. It's been nice sloshing through my yard instead of crunching, and, as a bonus, the temperatures have remained cool.
On one of my regular excursions to the restroom at work today (my oily skin and small bladder make me a frequent visitor, if you'll pardon the overabundance of personal information), I saw something that I haven't seen in probably twenty years.
As I was washing my face, a man came in and set his briefcase on the counter and rounded the corner to the, ummm, facilities. I dried my face and put on my glasses and found myself staring at...
...a pair of galoshes.
That's right, folks, resting atop a soft-sided leather bag - black, vulcanized, injection-molded, rubber galoshes.
It was quite an anachronistic moment, right there in the fourth-floor men's room. Galoshes. Don't see those every day. At least I don't.
They looked heavy-dutier than the galoshes I remember. Of course, there probably have been exponential advances in galosh-technology in the past two decades since I've been as close to a pair as I was these. They were smooth and sturdy, yet pliant enough to hug whatever loafers the man was wearing that he didn't want to get wet. I never saw the man or his shoes, but I must say I was tempted to pick up the galoshes and examine them tactilely, looking for at least a brand-name to link you to a picture, but I estimated that the man was too far along in his, ummm, business, for me to safely do so. Besides, I'm not really into bothering other people's stuff (especially not in the men's room), so it was a fleeting temptation at best.
I am now, however, on a quest for obsolete (or rarely encountered) objects. Anyone seen a buggy whip, a coffee percolator, or a slide rule lately?
On one of my regular excursions to the restroom at work today (my oily skin and small bladder make me a frequent visitor, if you'll pardon the overabundance of personal information), I saw something that I haven't seen in probably twenty years.
As I was washing my face, a man came in and set his briefcase on the counter and rounded the corner to the, ummm, facilities. I dried my face and put on my glasses and found myself staring at...
...a pair of galoshes.
That's right, folks, resting atop a soft-sided leather bag - black, vulcanized, injection-molded, rubber galoshes.
It was quite an anachronistic moment, right there in the fourth-floor men's room. Galoshes. Don't see those every day. At least I don't.
They looked heavy-dutier than the galoshes I remember. Of course, there probably have been exponential advances in galosh-technology in the past two decades since I've been as close to a pair as I was these. They were smooth and sturdy, yet pliant enough to hug whatever loafers the man was wearing that he didn't want to get wet. I never saw the man or his shoes, but I must say I was tempted to pick up the galoshes and examine them tactilely, looking for at least a brand-name to link you to a picture, but I estimated that the man was too far along in his, ummm, business, for me to safely do so. Besides, I'm not really into bothering other people's stuff (especially not in the men's room), so it was a fleeting temptation at best.
I am now, however, on a quest for obsolete (or rarely encountered) objects. Anyone seen a buggy whip, a coffee percolator, or a slide rule lately?