Today it might seem strange that the elevators, or lifts, in many buildings once had human operators, whose job was to drive it. Open and close the doors. Push start and stop buttons. Be prepared to announce the floor the elevator had arrived at, and what might be there.
It makes me wonder, did operators require a drivers license, before they could take charge of a lift? Of course, elevators weren’t quite as automated as they are today, so some level of skill was required to work one.
But seventy-five year old Ruben Pardo, who has been driving the elevator in a high rise on Los Angeles’ Wilshire Boulevard since 1976, could tell you more about that. His work may have been made redundant by technology just about everywhere else, but I doubt that the people who use his lift mind that there is still a human driver.
It seems to me that wedding cake design is timeless, or wedding cake design of the last one hundred years, anyway. None of the styles seen here could be said to be inextricably bound to a particular time period, or would look otherwise out of place, whatever the year was. Except perhaps the 1986 and 2016 designs.
What becomes of old Olympic venues? Sadly, quite a few become abandoned, and either fall into disrepair, or end up serving a purpose quite unrelated to their original purpose. It’s unfortunate that some of these venues aren’t designed with a use after the games in mind, considering the cost that must have gone into their construction.
A picture of a meal someone was about to eat, for instance, first needed first to be painted. By a painter. Then servants would have to haul the finished work around the town and its environs, soliciting likes. How cumbersome.
Ok, so it’s actually an IKEA advert, but it’s still fun.
There’s very likely a reason latter day air travellers don’t like airline food, that’s because they don’t cook it, or for that matter, serve it, the way they used to. Check out these photos on the Flickr page of SAS Museet, or museum of Scandinavian Airlines, of the way things used to be.
Could you even imagine having a meal served this way on a regular commercial flight? No, I doubt it’s a sight we’ll see again.
I remember the VCR, or VideoCassette Recorder, and I remember the day it was superseded by CD and DVD discs. I remember the tape tangling up, and being “eaten” by VCR players. I remember them making owning a collection of movies more trouble than it was worth, on account of their bulk and weight.
And it’s been thirty years since Stand by Me, directed by Rob Reiner, was released. It seems hard to believe, but the film may never have been made, as Stephen King, who wrote the short novel that the screenplay was based on, wasn’t, at first, willing to be involved.
After convincing a reluctant Stephen King to allow them to adapt his novella, “The Body,” for the screen, writers Bruce A. Evans and Raynold Gideon brought the project to AVCO Embassy Pictures, a production and distribution company owned by Norman Lear. For King, who based the story on his own childhood, it was a leap of faith. The horror writer had bad experiences with Hollywood and was unhappy with adaptations of his books “The Shining” and “Christine.”
The milk bar of old, is fast fading from the suburbs. Australian artist, designer, and illustrator Eamon Donnelly, is intent on preserving their memory, and the place they held, and still hold, in Australia.
The Australian Milk Bar was quietly fading away without anyone noticing, an Australian icon was disappearing like an ice cream melting in the hot summers sun. I had still visited Milk Bars over the years but hadn’t really noticed a change until that day. I had always imagined Dave’s would still be there.
Why do our tastes, or preferences, become our tastes and preferences, why do they change over time, and why do we think we had bad taste in the past, when, say, we look at old photos of ourselves, and cringe at the way we used to dress, or style our hair? The here and now is always the new black, it seems, while the past, was, I don’t know, some other colour.
It is reminiscent of the moment, looking through an old photo album, when you see an earlier picture of yourself and exclaim, “Oh my God, that hair!” Or “Those corduroys!” Just as pictures of ourselves can look jarring because we do not normally see ourselves as others see us, our previous tastes, viewed from “outside”, from the perspective of what looks good now, come as a surprise. Your hairstyle per se was probably not good or bad, simply a reflection of contemporary taste. We say, with condescension, “I can’t believe people actually dressed like that,” without realising we ourselves are currently wearing what will be considered bad taste in the future.