Trans World Airlines has a special place in American History. On October 21, 1992 a special anniversary flight from Moscow to New York (via Brussels) brought my family and me to this country, full of hopes, dreams and dressed up in full-blown winter attire on a nice 70F fall day. TWA is now a fading memory but some photos from the Life Magazine Archives may remind you of the olden days when the word “stewardess” wasn’t frowned upon, smoking was cool and the sexism was a solid corporate policy.
I thought of another item to put on my bucket list (if it existed): I’d like to become a groupie (or is at a roadie? I need to get my terminology straight before I do it) for a mini donuts stand:
I’d just follow this thing around the country and feed exclusively on “Lil’Orbits” until I die happily and quietly from clogged arteries at some random state’s fairgrounds. Now you could say that I should buy this miracle machine and stay home, but what do I do with my free spirit?
People used to be easily amused. A ride on a painted horse in a circle could’ve been a high point of some Midwestern kid’s year. The sights, the sounds, the smells of carnival rides became the cherished memories people carried through their lives. Even I remember when a carousel ride wasn’t lame, but, of course, I am much older than my physical age.
