Long-lived ribbon ties past to future

Once upon a decade, when polyester and disco reigned, I was single and pinching pennies. As Christmas was a financial struggle, I was happy to find a 5- by 3 1/2-inch plastic spool of royal blue curling ribbon for only a dollar and hoped it would last a few years. But instead of being a large spool with a small amount of ribbon, it turned out to be a slim spool with a huge amount of ribbon. It was barely skimmed when I married Richard in 1981.

This ribbon has never run out, to our bemusement, amusement and sometimes dismay. It’s the Energizer Bunny of ribbons, the dark side of economy. Richard, who isn’t at all fond of it, perversely wrapped every gift with it this year and was tempted to wind it around the house to see if he could use it all up. Sick of it, I didn’t use it at all. And it’s annoying trying to find paper with blue in it every year. Ribbon comes and ribbon goes, but this ribbon stubbornly refuses to unwind to that last useless inch.

This year we began to contemplate the ribbon in a rather macabre way. Though it shows no signs of doing so, what happens when it runs out? Are our lives or marriage tied to it in some spooky kind of Twilight Zone way? Do we dare dispose of it? Does it have a portrait in the attic?

This blue ribbon has seen us through several styles of hair, clothes and glasses, through dating, marriage, several moves, health crises, jobs, presidents, major world events and three cats. And it’s still with us, faithfully unwinding as usual. What does it think when we pull it out of the wrapping bin each Christmas? “Ack – what did she do with her hair this year? And, yup, here’s Mr. Sourpuss, ready to complain about me. Gads, those people are aging!”

Complacently blue and boring, stretching through our past and promising to unspool through our future, the ribbon remains. Like it, we can be strong, break, fray, or curl as we face life’s challenges. I’m all for curling, as flexibility is necessary for times like these.

If I wanted to get all poetic and metaphorical, I could say this “ribbon of years” represents time unfurling through the decades. It has threaded through Me (’70s), Greed (’80s), Prosperity (’90s) and Hell (Time magazine’s moniker for the ’00s). Now there’s a progression for you.

It seems like just yesterday we were going through the millennial Y2K hysteria. We’ve gotten through the aughts banged up, dizzied, and shoeless through airport security. But despite gloomy times, we Americans tend to be optimists, seeing possibility in fresh numbers and new calendars, though a transition from the uh-oh decade to the ten-der years doesn’t really change anything.

I wonder how we’ll ultimately signify this spanking new decade now unspooling before us.

Perhaps it will be known as the Whiny Decade … because you know teens. We can only hope it doesn’t sulk, demand the car keys, constantly demand money, and refuse to clean its room. (Well, unfortunately, it’s guaranteed to demand money.)

Or maybe it will be the Did It! Decade where we fixed the economy, stimulated jobs, wiped out the national debt, repaired our infrastructure, prioritized the environment, made possible health care for all Americans and got –yes! – hoverboards!

Well, I can dream, can’t I?

However the decade goes, though, one thing’s for certain – it will be tied up in blue curling ribbon at our house.

It’s a wrap!