Not Totally Old School

I love handkerchiefs, talking on landlines, newspapers, and old black and white movies. I love scalloped paper doilies placed under plates of food, and coffee shops with “luncheon specials” served on worn Formica counters with a stool to perch while eating.

I’m not into the Starbuck’s thing, the modern meeting place. Sitting at a dimly lit wobbly table, sipping fancy coffee and surrounded by people behind laptops just doesn’t do it for me.  Nope, I go for old school – a good cup of Joe without all the fuss. 

In London this week, I gravitated at lunchtime to my old favorites - those little narrow eateries where the taxi driver’s go. Nothing fancy, but that’s where you get those good homemade cheese (and meat) sandwiches on cibbatta bread with dollops of mayonnaise atop thinly sliced cucumber and tomato. The teapot is stainless steel, and the water is good and hot.

Every year, I see less and less of these. But, Cardinal’s is still there. Yep, that’s me among the construction workers and the taxi drivers, reading The Daily Mail over a plated sandwich.

It’s where the coffee is black or white with no embellishment save a tiny spoon and a cup stuffed with packets of sweetener and sugar. And, the man behind the tall counter still wears an old-fashioned navy and white stripe cotton apron, stained from the morning rush.

Last year, Fortnum & Mason stopped selling my favorite handkerchiefs - the kind with the flowered applique in the corner. “No one asks for them anymore,” the saleswoman said. This year, they sold me their last four out of the stockroom.

I’m not totally old school, though. Not in my head. Not like the woman I saw at the Imperial War Museum dressed in a 40’s fitted-tweed suit, vintage turban, pocketbook and gloves, wistfully fingering the glass separating her from wartime baking powder and flour tins.

No. I do not want to go back in time. And, it was never more evident than when I went to the theatre last night.

I saw Kinky Boots, the musical.  The theatre was packed. At the end, the audience, as diverse in culture, age and creed as London is, rose to a standing ovation. First to rise, an elderly couple front-row-center, leading the pack.

Clapping my hands amidst the sea of applause reminded me of what is now – a standing ovation for a modern musical about heart and humanity, and conquering and surpassing stereotypes.

Now, that I love.