Mae West

We were mildly taken aback last night when none of the Jeopardy semi-finalists could give the correct response about a Mae West life jacket. They were all a few generations too young, but still… there are certain parts of the popular culture so ingrained in us old ducks that it seems impossible that they’ve dropped off the radar.

I feel that way more and more – especially about the physical nature of Oysterville. Our newest residents not only don’t (read can’t) remember some of the structures that I take for granted like the Annex at the Heckes Inn, the Bardheim Barn and the Greenman House, but in some cases they don’t know that they existed at all. Or, they think some aspects of the village have always been as they are now.

Take Sandridge Road, for example. For all of my childhood that road was called “Peninsula Road” and it ended at the S Curve at Nelson’s Corner where it morphed into Fourth Street (now Territory Road). The part of today’s Sandridge that parallels Territory Road to the west simply wasn’t there. Behind the school were woods and School Street dead-ended at its namesake.

Bardheim Barn, Oysterville

The physical world that I grew up in is gradually giving way to a new environment. The young people are in a “whole new world” as we are fond of pointing out. Much as we have difficulty in embracing their enthusiasms, they cannot relate to our memories. When I think about it, that’s the aspect of growing older that is hardest.

It puts me in mind of my mother’s sorrow when, in her nineties, one of her childhood friends died. “She’s the last person who remembered my mother when she was a young woman.” The older I get and the more of my own past that is ‘lost,’ the more I understand the loneliness of that remark.  The longer we live, the fewer of us are left who shared the same experiences or, worse, who even remember.

Army Aircorps Crew in Mae Wests, WWII

But… back to Mae West (1893-1980). You’d think she’d be somewhat topical, even now. Her acting career spanned seven decades, she was known for her double-entendres (“I used to be Snow White, but I drifted,”) and she wrote plays for screen and stage. In 1927 her production of “The Drag” was closed down before it reached Broadway for its open portrayal of homosexuality and cross-dressing. During World War II, Allied aircrew called their yellow inflatable, vest-like life preserver jackets “Mae Wests” partly from rhyming slang for “breasts” and “life vest” and partly because of the resemblance to her torso.

Yep! How soon we forget!