“Old school” or “New school”? What does that mean?
My nieces and nephews call me “old school” and they’re probably right.
I guess I’m old school because I went to one. Back in the 1950’s and 60’s, my grammar school was housed in a decrepit ancient mansion that could have passed for the Munster’s home. They remodeled it by the time I got to second grade bringing it up to code including overhead fire sprinklers in every area of the building. This was not too long after a famous fire in a Chicago Catholic school where several kids lost their lives.
My parents moved our family out of the neighborhood before the start of school in the fall of 1968. The school had already closed for good the previous June. Within a couple of short years, the building is demolished due to urban renewal and a monstrous multi-story school administration building now sits in its place.
There is something called an old school of thought as wells as a new school. The old school of thought tells me to eat whatever I want because I am going to burn it off in a few nights of athletic contests over the following week. The new school of thought warns me that even looking at the food is going to cause me to gain weight.
Plato’s old school would say to go out and take a drive around the suburbs at night for relaxation. The new school says, “Are you crazy? Gas costs $3.24 a gallon!”
Old school says, “Your winter jacket has a few minor tears around the sleeves. Time to buy a new jacket.” New school says,”Forget about it! Who is going to notice? Besides, I gotta pay the mortgage.”
New school says “sushi”, old school says, “Uncle Ben’s Converted Rice mixed with tuna salad if that’s what makes you happy.” Yich!
I guess I don’t mind being called old school. Especially if it means that I don’t care for the frequently used very noisy loudspeakers at Chicago’s United Center when I go to see a Bulls game in person. And don’t even
think of sending me a text message on my flip phone. If I wanna surf the ‘net or send and receive email, that’s why I have a Windows 98 computer.
Uh, so what are you – old or new?
One thought on “I’m Just an Old School Guy, What About You?”
Gotta side with you on this one. Definitely “Old School” all the way and proud of it! I fondly remember buying a pack of cigarettes out of a machine for a quarter. Back then, anyone, regardless of age, could buy themselves a pack 24 hrs a day. Those machines were everywhere.
Come to think of it, that fact alone is probably why I’ve been a smoker since the age of 12. Way too accessible back in the 50’s.