Progressive

I remember when my grandmother bought an aluminum tree.  She considered it a very up and coming gesture, a thoroughly modern Ruthie sort of thing to do.  I also remember the white leather chair she added to her Victorian living room.  That was more of a nod to comfort I suspect.  She was older then.

I was a member of this human race when everyone decided to cover their couches, chairs, and car seats with plastic, saving the actual upholstery for the rats in the junk yard I guess.  To be fair I was too young to do more than burn my behind when my shorts did not cover my eight year old legs. 

I remember when the glass man convinced my parents the best way to replace a cracked antique glass door was with a swirled amber plastic sheet that made our living room look like a mausoleum.  It was kind of fitting at the time because my little brother had just learned about taxidermy and was fantasizing about having mother stuffed and kept in his living room when she died.  The best thing I can say about this is that he was very young and she was very healthy.  They both outlived this phase.

I now live in a house that predates the  last mid century rush to do away with windows and build enormous heating and cooling machines into houses.  Unfortunately my enormous windows did not escape entirely.  Someone coated them in a dull plastic film guaranteed never to completely peel off, but doomed to long streaks that will forever imitate grime.

Progressive attitudes are strange things.  They seem so right at the time and so unbelievable later on