Change Helps Us Cherish the Things That Don’t
Remember shag carpeting?
It was all the rage. Greatest thing ever for kids to roll in. Until you lost stuff in it. You could even buy a special comb for shag rugs. At least the Astroturf green shag carpet Mom picked out went well with her green antiqued dining room set and beloved buffet, all of them already antiques. Sort of as a reminder in case you forgot.
Our lives are short in the timeline of the cosmos. So, we live ever faster, hoping to experience the next great thing just around the corner. In the capitalist U.S., our whole way of life is based on selling and buying (and often storing) the latest styles and inventions that we’re told will improve our lives. Whatever sells. By convincing us we need these things, someone makes a buck, or billions of bucks.
It’s easy to laugh at the innumerable styles and fads from the past. I’m showing my age, but do you remember the Chia Pet? Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots? Pocket Fisherman? Pet Rock? Chatty Cathy? Bean bag chairs? Lawn darts? Super Ball? Mini skirts and Nehru jackets? Earth Shoes? How many of them did you own? How many of them do you still have? How many of them are in storage? How many of them came in a box marked Garage Sale Ready?
Just What You Need
To see the latest stuff you need, just go to Amazon. Or Wayfair, whose ads have the not-so-subtle tag line, “Wayfair, you’ve got just what I need.” To see what isn’t selling, look at the sales like Amazon Prime Day. It might be just what you need.
We’re reminded of these “gotta have one” inventions when we see them on the internet and at garage sales, often in the original box with the see-through plastic window. Some were heavily advertised items the previous Christmas. Salad Spinner, anyone? Maybe you still have some of this stuff, buried in a pile of other forgotten things in your basement, attic or a self-service storage unit you pay for monthly.
You start to notice all this as you get older and realize you’ll never use any of it. You certainly don’t need it. Check your closets. You probably have a Hula-hoop standing right next to your GoGo boots. And a pair of bell bottom jeans that wouldn’t fit you even after years on Wegovy.
Over the years there have been so many lifestyle changes that it makes me wonder what’s next? I never imagined that the rotary phone would go away. Even cigarette smoking has mostly disappeared from any social environment I’m in. In the summer, before AC, I could tell which houses had smokers as I rode by on my bike. And what they had for supper. Back then we had gas stations with actual service. Remember when we used to call them “service stations”?
And who knew that fast food was bad for you? We ate all the burgers, fries and malts we could afford. At home it was a treat when we got to eat TV dinners, pot pies and 99-cent frozen pizzas from the grocery store.
Time has certainly had an effect on Red Wing. Things do change. I’ve ridden across all three of Red Wing’s high bridges. An old photo recently reminded me that Bluff Street used to lead straight across the original high bridge. There have been many modifications to downtown as businesses changed hands or moved to West Red Wing.
Unmistakably Red Wing
The building facades may change, and the interiors get updated. But most of downtown’s buildings still appear to have good bones so, even though their use may change, the historical look and feel remains. If you’ve lived here for awhile you can almost instantly recognize downtown Red Wing in a photograph from more than 100 years ago. A dead giveaway is often the iconic He Mni Can-Barn Bluff.
One of the biggest changes any of us old enough to remember was the rerouting of Highway 61 from Seventh Street to along the base of the bluff. It makes you wonder what downtown would be like today if Highway 61 had been rerouted around town. It might have killed the downtown or downtown could have become a much quieter destination for locals and tourists alike.
Having said all this, I’m happily reminded every day that some things don’t change. I’ve lived in three different parts of town, two at the base of the bluffs and one on a bluff top. In all three locations I could hear trains, downtown sirens and snowplows working their way across town until they find you. Even the gun range and the occasional horn of a towboat pushing a barge through the Big Turn.
For this you can thank the echo chamber created by the bluffs we live in. I’ve been exposed to those sounds my whole life, so I’m used to them. They are all strangely comforting.
Except the gun range.