Author and columnist Shelly Reuben

I was thumbing through my newspaper the other day when I came upon a story lamenting that certain species – like leaping lesbian lizards, yellow eyed penguins, and Bumblebee Bats – were on the verge of extinction.

And that got me thinking about other entities equally as likely to disappear, or which already have fallen prey to that same dismal fate. The first that popped into my head is probably the most to be bemoaned: the neighborhood busybody.

Usually a “she,” we could always count on her to be leaning out the window of her apartment building, sitting on her front stoop, or folded into a lawn chair outside her front door, her eyes darting this way and that, head swiveling like the turret of a well-intentioned Sherman tank. It was she who noted when Johnny was staying out late, if Polly was smoking cigarettes behind the shed, if the light stayed on all night in Mr. Carlyle’s garage (and why the lady who had arrived with him never seemed to emerge), and when newspapers started to pile up outside old Mr. Millburn’s mail box.

It was also she (in the old TV series Bewitched, her name was Mrs. Kravitz), who, on so many occasions, kept our children safe. She’d be the one who called parents and “told” on us if we were hanging out with lawless thugs. She knew if a suspicious stranger was lurking near a playground, if your dog had been kidnapped, and by whom. She was the one who alerted the police when Mr. Applebaum didn’t go for his morning walk, after which they broke down his door and found him crumpled at the foot of the stairs where he’d fallen … soon enough to save him.

Most importantly, (you can check this out with people in law enforcement, and verify that I’m right), the Mrs. Kravitzs of world were the eyes and ears that protected our cities and streets.

“Yes, Officer. I saw two boys shooting BBs into Brookfield’s living room window.”

“No, Officer. It wasn’t a red car that crashed into the Pepperman’s mailbox. It was blue.”

“Yes, Officer. I saw …”

“No, Officer. It wasn’t …”

It was the busybody who tattled, observed, worried, and doubted that saved many a life.

Gone.

Public telephones. Milkmen. The neighborhood candy store (where they also sold pickles). Spinning merry-go-rounds in playgrounds and metal slides. Seesaws. Jungle Jims. And old fire engines or steam rollers donated from public works departments for kids to play on.

Gone.

Clean bathrooms in bus and train stations that required a quarter to get in.

Gone.

Also gone: Super Sonic jets that flew faster than the speed of sound. Hayrides in the back of Uncle Fester’s pickup truck. Tether ball in parks and on public beaches. Fathers riding their kids on the cross bar or handlebar of their bicycles. Boy Scouts (with only boys). Men’s clubs with wood paneled room where guys could get away from their wives and smoke smelly cigars. Swan Lake ballets where only women got to dance the female roles. Ballroom dancing lessons in Junior High School. Junior High School (now called “Middle School.” Why?) Shop class. Typing class (duh. Computers DO have keyboards. Has anyone noticed?)

Prima ballerinas (name one you can remember after Maria Tallchief or Margot Fontayne). Art Class. Music class. Home Economics (does anyone nowadays know how to iron a shirt? Sew on a button? Mend a sock? Balance a checkbook?)

Old-fashioned housewives (snubbed, humiliated, and excoriated, whereas contemporary stay-at-home-moms are somehow looked at as having made brilliant career moves).

Distinctive automobiles you could instantly identify by their grills, tail fins, or hood mounts (Jaguars and Pierce-Arrows had the best). Cars in all colors, from turquoise to yellow to pink, orange, lime green, powder blue, and everything in between.

Tab. The soft drink.

Wax lips, wax moustaches, and wax fangs (great for Halloween!) Licorice pipes and guns (Yes. You’d eat them). Candy and Bubblegum cigarettes. Cap guns. Erector sets. Pick-up sticks with sharp points. And absolutely fantastic toys in Cracker Jack boxes (Yes. They could be dangerous, but only if you were stupid enough to stick them up your nose or swallow them), as opposed to the bleh paper “prizes” the boxes contain now.

Slow dancing, melody, crinolines and poodle skirts (admittedly ridiculous, but great fun).

And … I really miss these two: Superheroes on the comic strip pages in newspapers, and really outrageous political cartoons.

Of course, there will be items on your endangered or gone lists I haven’t thought of. So, by all means … please fill me in. Meanwhile, the newspapers that we are holding and the landlines for your phone (if you have one) are already in peril, so hold onto them tightly!

We don’t want them to become extinct, too.

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2025. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com