The Phantom Sinus Condition

Punxsatawny Phil may have gotten it wrong this year. Three weeks after his prediction of an early spring, the dog and I continue to suffer frozen extremities during our morning walk. But do we complain? No! And it all goes back to Aunt Gladys and her Phantom Sinus Condition.

Aunt Gladys and my mother both worked at the Scranton Dry Goods Co from 1936 to 1946. "The Dry" was about 1.5 miles from the family homestead. That was a hefty hike in the winter especially wearing a skirt, and women all wore skirts to work in those days. The family didn't have a car. This was the Great Depression and WWII after all. There was bus service at $0.10 per ride. That doesn't sound like much today, but back then my mother only made about $12 per week and paying $1 of it for transit was out of the question. Remarkably, both Aunt Gladys and my mother gave their weekly pay to my grandmother who then doled out an allowance to them for their personal expenses. They were in their twenties at the time and living at home what with all the men off fighting the war. Imagine a 28 year old today giving her paycheck to her mom and living on an allowance.

Aunt Gladys decided she just couldn't brave those chilly winds and cold temperatures any more. She developed a "sinus condition" and had to take the bus to work. My mother always claimed that it was a phantom condition, but it fooled my grandmother. So my mother walked 1.5 miles every day in the chilling wind and snow while Aunt Gladys rode by in comfort, handkerchief to her nose.

Fast forward to 1963. It was about 1.5 miles from the family homestead to Central High School. The School District did not offer bus service, but students could get reduced bus fares (about $1.25 per week as I recall). This seemed like a good deal to me. "Mom, it's getting cold out. Can I have bus fare for the week?"

"I walked to "The Dry" in a skirt for ten years. The least you can do is walk to high school for two years. Who do you think you are? Aunt Gladys?"

Fats forward to 2011. The dog says to me (telepathically of course), "Dad, I'm freezing on these morning walks. Can't we just go on the treadmill or go to the Mall?"

"Who do you think you are? Aunt Gladys?", I reply (telepathically, of course). I don't think he understands though. Now, if he develops a sinus condition...