
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, January 16, 1995                   TAG: 9501170038
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

WATCHING CHANGE THROUGH THE OLD WOODEN WINDOWS

I now tell all window salespersons who call me during my nap that I admire my current wooden windows and will keep them as long as there is breath in my body.

Although I know that putty falls out of them periodically, I'm simply not interested in new windows or what they are made of - including metal, crocodile hides, plastic, or horns from certain sacred animals of Asia.

I know that cold gets into the house through these wooden windows, in spite of the storm windows, and I say to these salespersons that there is nothing wrong with a little cold in the house.

It keeps you alert and fresh-faced. It makes the blood rush early in the morning. It allows the owner of wooden windows to wear the six-pound sweater his Aunt Olivia gave him for Christmas indoors without getting heat stroke.

In addition, I have gone about as far as I'm going to go in the matter of new technology - including state-of-the-art windows.

We got a cordless telephone for Christmas, but we still stand in the same place in the kitchen where once we answered the rotary-dial phone in simpler times.

Soon, I'm sure we will convince ourselves that there is nothing decadent about having a phone that you can take to the basement with you.

You've got to watch change, though. A cordless phone might well lead to a swimming pool in the side yard with several girls who strongly resemble Kim Basinger lolling about in bikinis.

It might even lead to wearing dark glasses, sipping drinks with umbrellas in them and making big deals from poolside. I hate drinks with umbrellas in them.

If we had new windows, I guess we could see the girls better. I don't believe, however, that anybody is going to give us a pool for Christmas.

I tell the people in charge of this new-window movement that there is something basically noble about the multipaned wooden windows I have.

Hanging out of them and contorting yourself so you can stay inside and wash the outside panes preserves something of the work ethic that made this country great.

Many Americans will never know the joy of this kind of window cleaning. They have these windows that fold right out so you can wash both sides without a single muscle cramp.

God didn't mean for us to do windows that way.

I say respectfully to window salespersons everywhere: Don't call me. I'll call you.

When you're having your nap. I hope.

by CNB