This morning I went to my young, high-tech dentist to get a crown for my tooth. The procedure was pain-free thanks to a computer-controlled gizmo that shoots Novocain into your gums, and his high-speed drill got the grinding job done in minutes. Sure beats the way Nick, the dentist in the old neighborhood, practiced the sport, with his four-inch Novocain syringe, a belt-driven, 6- rpm drill and garlic breath. Nick always wore a tie and when he'd get that drill moving, I imagined his tie would get caught in the belt and he'd be spun out the window and land on the 63rd Street streetcar tracks. The thought of Nick flying through the air took my mind off the pain. Those were the days.
But the old days were not that great. If you wanted to change the radio station to tune in "The Shadow" or the "Green Hornet," you had to get out of your chair and go across the room to the radio/record player console. Think of the wasted energy: Get up, walk across the room, change the station and walk back to your chair. But there were other things that made life in the old days inefficient. When you wanted to make popcorn, you grabbed the popper with the long handle, filled it to the proper level with corn and started shaking it two or three inches above the flame on the gas stove. If you didn't shake the popper or if you put it too close to the flame, the popcorn would burn.
But there was more. In the old Chicago neighborhood, many folks did not have a car. You walked to the streetcar, and often had to get off one car and transfer to another to get where you were going. Think of all that walking and climbing those streetcar steps. Exhausting. One summer when I was 12 somebody arranged to get us free White Sox tickets and, as a result, my buddies and I took the streetcar to almost every home game. But just think of the time and energy we wasted riding the trolley. Getting mom to drive us would have been more efficient. But mom didn't have a car. Today most moms have a car and that makes transporting kids much more efficient. Indeed, these are the best of times.
When Frank isn't burning the popcorn or getting up to change the channel, he can be reached at fburge@cmp.com.