From the Mouths of Children

The Golden Years

Last night, I went to visit my grandparents to drop off their Christmas presents and visit for a few minutes. It was a surprisingly nice visit. We talked about my school which led them to the discussion of how they met at college and my grandma being caught trying to shave her legs when the lights went out at 10:30. It is insane to think about how much has changed since those days. The campus only had two stone buildings which have since been demolished and replaced with multiple, modernized buildings.

It was nostalgic for me to hear these stories and think about the things I would one day discuss with my grandchildren. It's weird to think of me being old someday. Will I be one of those cute, little, old men who holds his cute, little, old wife's hand everywhere we go, never spending more than a night apart? Will I be a grumpy recluse who will only leave my house if it's burning down? Or will I be one of the creeps who hangs out at the mall, all day, every day?

I don't really know what type of old man I'll make. I do know, however, that as I age, I hope to have someone with me to hold my hand and make breakfast for and basically everything Cory and Topanga had.

Too. Cute.

Think Before You Speak

Prior to Thanksgiving break, I was in my history class learning about the disappearance of the middle class in ancient Rome and how the same patterns are presenting themselves today. My teacher asked, “…so, what do you find in a banana republic?”

Feeling overjoyed that I finally knew the answer to one of his questions, I raised my hand and without being called on shouted, “Underwear on hangers.” In retort, he said, “Yes, and toilet paper flying out the windows.”

Quietly I turned to the girl behind me and asked, “He’s talking about the store Banana Republic, right?” Immediately the class erupted in laughter. Luckily, I managed to make it look like a joke that I was in control of, that I knew what I banana republic was, and that I didn’t feel 3 feet tall.

I discovered after investigating what exactly my professor was referring to when he said, “banana republic”. For those of you who don’t know, if there be any, it is a small country with an unstable government and its economy is dependent on the export of a single product and/or outside financial help. They are countries with a vast gap between the very rich and the very poor.

I suppose it is experiences like these that help us to grow and learn. I know that I will never walk into a Banana Republic again without an instant recall of what a banana republic is, which leads to a whole other discussion. Why is it called Banana Republic? Does the clothing company manufacture their clothes in a country filled with sweat shops and old women sewing their fingers to the bone? If so, this seems like poor advertising on their part. Maybe they should have considered a name more like “Prosperous Fatherland” or “Plentiful States”. This way, naïve college students like me wouldn’t have to think twice before grabbing the underwear off the hanger.