“A dollar and 25 cents! That’s absolutely ridiculous!” my mother shouted. “For a Coca Cola?” (People her age still call it that)

I started to place our order at the drive through window.

“Just don’t get me anything to drink,” she said smugly. “I’ve got tea at home.”

As the clerk waited patiently I tried to explain to Mama that it would be at least two hours before we got home and if she didn’t get something to drink she would surely choke on her McChicken.

“I can manage,” she said. “Besides, if I drink I’ll just have to go to the bathroom.”

My sweet mama. Always with an answer.

So, off we went, Mama sitting there with her sack of chicken in her lap, saving it as if it were her last meal on earth. I asked her several times to take a sip of my tea but she was having none of that.

Bless her heart. I understand her shock at the changing times, the outrageous prices, the absence of morals, the disappearance of common kindness, the acceptance of words I would have had washed out of my mouth with soap had I uttered them when I was young.

Chip off the old maternal block, I think I’m a lot like Mama in lamenting the loss of so many good things that existed “back in the day.”

Modern technology notwithstanding, I’m not so hot on pumping my own gas, checking out my own groceries in Wal-Mart, or fixing my own plate at the salad bar. I still want to be coddled a little, to be waited on, to sit down and enjoy the break. So what if it costs a few pennies more. I’ll pay it.

Mama won’t, of course. She’ll just stay at home and eat, thank you very much, and she is a pro at getting the little guy at the gas pump up the street to pump her gas for her….for free.

As for her groceries, she counts out her money to make sure she has just the right amount for what she wants before she ever goes in the store. And she counts her change, too, something I hardly ever do.

Impulse buying is a definite nono for Mama. “If I didn’t need it before I came in here, I don’t need it now.” She has a point. I wish I could remember that when I’m up to my eyeballs in chocolate bars at the checkout. Candy that was nowhere on my list or on my mind when I came in.

I hear a lot of “This is the way it was when I was coming along,” a lot of it from Mama and a lot of it from Mama’s friends, all who lived through tougher times than my generation has ever seen.

Things my mama thinks of as luxuries, most of us do on a regular basis and think nothing of it.

“I guess she’s got more money than sense,” Mama will say, “’cause I know for a fact she gets those pedicues and manicues all the time.”

Yes, I need to be more frugal like my mama. My hubby would certainly be pleased. Maybe that’s the reason our economy is in the fix it’s in today; we’ve spent and spent and can’t pay for most of it, probably never will.

Just for fun, Mama and I started comparing the differences of today and ‘the good ole days.’ What we discovered, with the help of the Internet (one luxury I couldn’t do without and Mama “wouldn’t buy for all the tea in China!”)

I’m sort of with Mama that our nation took a nosedive in every way after 1950.

Things were safer, and simpler back then, no doubt.

Take the year 1909 for instance. A little over one hundred years ago. Wow, what a difference a century makes! Take a look at some of the statistics of that year.

The average life expectancy was 47 years. (Yikes!)

Only 14 percent of homes had bathtubs.

Only 8 percent of the homes had a telephone.

There were only 8,000 cars and only 144 miles of paved roads.

The average speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.

The tallest structure in the world was the Eiffel Tower.

The average wage in 1909 was 22 cents per hour.

The average worker made between $200 and $400 per year.

A competent accountant could expect to earn $2,000 per year, a dentist $2,500 per year, a veterinarian between $1,500 and $4,000 per year, and a mechanical engineer about $5,000 per year.

More than 95 percent of all births took place at HOME. (Ouch.)

Ninety per cent of ALL doctors had no college education! Instead, they attended so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and the government as substandard.

Sugar cost four cents a pound.

Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen.

Coffee was fifteen cents a pound.

Most women only washed their hair once a month, and used Borax or egg yolks for shampoo.

Canada passed a law that prohibited poor people from entering into their country for any reason.

The five leading causes of death were: Pneumonia and influenza; Tuberculosis; Diarrhea; Heart disease; and Stroke.

The American flag has 45 stars.

The population of Las Vegas, Nevada, was only 30!

Crossword puzzles, canned beer, and iced tea hadn’t been invented yet.

There was no Mother’s Day or Father’s Day.

Two out of every 10 adults couldn’t read or write and only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school.

Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. Back then pharmacists said, “Heroin clears the complexion, gives buoyancy to the mind, regulates the stomach and bowels, and is, in fact, a perfect guardian of health.” (Anybody up for time travel?)

Eighteen percent of households had at least one full-time servant or domestic help.

There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE U.S.A.!

Plus, one sad thought: 95 percent of the taxes we have now did not exist in 1909.

Fact is, seniors like my mama know an awful lot. “I just can’t remember it all,” she laughs.

And I’m glad she can laugh about it since I’m not far behind her. I’m 61, and guess what, I’m already too old to benefit much from current scientific breakthroughs. By the time they trickle down, I’ll be long gone.

But, so as not to end on a sour note, I think it is true, too, that our senior years may be our best years ever.

I’ll finally get to do what I want and say what I think without correction.

I’ll have time to develop hobbies, play with my grandchildren (now, with my new knee), and read to my heart’s content.

Yes, though we can agree life was different “back then” (for instance, we got married first, then slept together) it wasn’t all peaches and cream either. So what if a nickel would buy you a “Coca Cola,” as Mama says, or buy you enough stamps to mail a letter and 2 postcards. I’m still grateful to live in the here and now.

Let’s face it; if my boomer friends and I had been 61 in the good old days, we’d be dead right now.

So, I’m making a vow that, after this year, I will refuse to admit to ever being older than 61. I’ll be forever young, even if it does make my sons illegitimate.

Mama tries to console me about the aging process.

“It doesn’t matter. In a couple of years you won’t remember how old you are anyway, and it’s a good bet you won’t even remember your own name.”

Thanks, Mama. I’ll look forward to it. You’re a peach.