In the car home last night, for no apparent reason, we started to remember old things.  I am not talking about Fred.  Things.

Like the milkman who used to deliver our milk in a little box that we kept on the porch of our back door.  I don't know why we didn't keep it by the front door, that porch was a lot bigger.  We would get bottles of regular milk, once in awhile a chocolate milk, and sometimes even orange juice.  I guess the milk the milkman delivered was fresher than the milk in the store.  Then one day the milk man was gone and he never came back and the milk was in cartons not bottled.

I guess for an older generation, it was the same thing with the ice man who delivered ice for the ice box.  These days the only delivery is my daily New York Times, and I bet there will be a day when newspapers are all digital and that stops too.  I would miss not having the paper to hold in my hands and read in the morning.

We also thought about the old seltzer bottles that squirted out the seltzer.  Now I have my own seltzer maker in my kitchen.  In goes into a plastic bottle and I use water from my refrigerator.  So I never have to pay for seltzer again and don't have to go to the store to get it.

And where did the Good Humor ice cream truck go?  I remember being home after school and hearing the bells of the truck coming slowly down the street and I would run out of my house like lots of other kids on the block.  I don't see those trucks around town anymore.

I liked that old stuff.