Before getting down to the normal course of business in this column, I feel it incumbent upon me to express gratitude to all of you who have helped make this weekly stroll down Attleboro's memory lane into the success that it is.
Your gracious responses, kind comments and encouraging letters in "Voice of the Public" have touched and encouraged me immensely. Recent examples would be the kind remarks from Fran Zito, Jim Rowan, Tom and Mike Walsh, Dave Hardt, George Burgess, Steve Gowen (we'll overlook that he's a Yankees fan), Lydia Toulumtzis and Beverly (Costine) Germain, to name a few.
I have also been enriched beyond measure through the precious friends this column has brought into my orbit - John Buchanan, Bob Warren, and Billy Walsh are some, and the mention of Billy reminds me of the recent six-year memorial tribute which I saw for an old cherished friend, the late Patrick "P.J." Walsh, Billy's cousin, which was placed by P.J.'s beloved widow Eileen.
Just one more reminder that tempus fugit (time flies) and as it sprints, it drags all of us along with it, chiseling our faces and whitening our hair (if we still have any), so if there are still New Year's resolutions to be made (or you've already broken the ones you did make) we should resolve to take advantage of every opportunity to tell those we love what they mean to us, and never postpone a visit or phone call to a friend until another day - that day may not be promised to either of us.
A few of us still remember the slower pace that "the old days" afforded - everything seemed to go to blazes when they started coiling phone cords. Remember? Pick up the phone and there was no buzzing dial tone. A nasal female voice asked, "Number please," and the caller would speak three or four numbers and a letter (and add please if you were a properly-raised 5-year-old boy) after which the operator intoned "Thank you," and the phone would ring on the other end.
One morning at Bliss School, grades 1-6 assembled in the third floor auditorium so we could learn about the system of dial phones; this was big stuff to us at the time (maybe 1958 or '59) because we had seen dial phones being used for several years in movies and TV.
There had recently been talk of a big road called an "interstate highway" which may be going right through sleepy ol' Attleboro and now dial phones - it seemed our hometown was about to move into the modern era.
The man who did the talking told us that our exchange would be Castle followed by our phone number, and we were cautioned to pay close attention because we'd probably have to teach dial phones to our parents.
It puts me in mind of another short-lived time of innocence. Why is it that we always seem to be being sold a bill of goods? When the state lottery was proposed, we were told that Beacon Hill figured that the revenue brought in would enable the state to cut, maybe eliminate state taxes - well now, for 40 years the state lottery has been an unqualified success, but have your taxes fallen?
When cable TV was proposed, it was said the cost would be minimal and there would be no commercials, two selling points that greased the rails for Inland Bay. The introduction of commercials was insidious, a little at a time, until before long commercials were every bit as pervasive and annoying as commercial television ever was, only now we were paying for the privilege of watching them, and paying rates which escalated pretty quickly.
Does anyone recall Victoria? She came to you over the phone lines speaking in a refined and pleasant British accent to gently remind the cable subscriber that "perhaps they had inadvertently overlooked paying the cable bill?" I would have promised the moon and stars to Victoria. Alas, all too soon she was gone, and the only reminder that you had overlooked your cable bill was the screen going dark. Then came Comcast, and don't even get me started…
Yeah, I guess "progress" is fine, but truth be known, I could be just as happy (maybe more) sittin' on a pallet of two by fours at Ashley's lumber yard working on one of Mr. Slater's double dip vanilla cones and listening to Elvis or Buddy Holly on my new transistor while a summer breeze blows by.
Footnotes plus
I'll bet Police Chief Rich Pierce would neither confirm nor deny the rumor that the prisoner whose pants caught on fire was being questioned and lying at the time.
My apologies to old friend and classmate Gary Jacobs, who I ran into at Castro's last week and repeatedly called "Paul." Five minutes after I left Castro's I realized my error; Gary, I have no excuse for calling you by the wrong name after all these years - sorry, my friend.
Too many old familiar faces passing lately - condolences to old friends Tim and Dennis Cronin and the rest of their large family upon the death of their dad, Timothy (Bill) Cronin.
Sympathy also to long-time friends Mike and Maryann Zarek upon the passing of Hilda Zarek. Condolences to the family of a man who was a warm and compassionate friend of mine, Bill Sloman. Bill was such a gentleman.
Our thoughts and prayers go out to the Demers family on the death of Roland "Red" Demers as well; we shared a lot of laughs in years past.
Be good to one another out there and try to do someone a good turn daily. Thank you and peace.
THOMAS McAVOY of Attleboro is a community columnist.