Front Porch: The old pink robe is worn, but still wearable

Every morning, I shrug myself into its welcoming contours. The once-fluffy pink nap has worn smooth. The cuffs, graying after repeated washings. I knot the belt, grab my coffee and shuffle downstairs to my desk and begin my day.

Recently, it dawned on me that my pink bathrobe is the oldest piece of clothing I own that I still wear.

Twenty-two years ago, I’d gone shopping for a new one. Heavily pregnant with our unplanned but oh, so welcomed fourth child, I decided to make sure I had a photo-worthy bathrobe for the post-birth photos.

No other color but pink would do, because I was positive that after having three sons, this last child would be a girl.

I mean, what are the odds that our unexpected blessing is a boy? I thought to myself.

I’d already jettisoned all our boy baby clothes when I’d thought our family complete. And since obviously math and understanding odds are not in my wheelhouse, I restocked our nursery with all things pink.

We all know how that turned out. Our Samantha turned out to be a Samuel. Back to the store went the pink, lacy things–except for the bathrobe.

I’m not a sentimental saver of things I can’t wear or don’t use. Sure, I have the fancy dress I wore at high school graduation and the sleek velvet dress I bought at the Goodwill when I finally lost all the weight I’d gained after having our grand finale – but those are the exceptions. I know I’ll never wear that lilac and white lace grad gown, but if I get consumption or another wasting disease, the velvet Christmas dress is still within my reach.

I wondered what clothing others held onto and still wore, so I posted the question on Facebook.

Miriam Robbins replied that she has a coat, bought at Value Village more than 25 years ago.

“It became my yard work coat to wear in the spring and fall when it’s too cold to go without one and not cold enough to wear my heavy winter coat,” she said.

Sue Lani Madsen has her father’s pea coat from his first tour of duty with the U.S. Coast Guard in the early 1950s.

“I wore the pea coat all during high school and imagined I was Ali McGraw in ‘Love Story,’ she said. “Still wear it occasionally–nothing better when it’s cold and wet.”

A black sweater still suits Jackie Wells.

“It’s probably at least 25 years old. It’s stretched out, but oh so comfy – the perfect thing to put on in a cold winter, movie, popcorn sort of night,” she said.

Scooter Mahoney found boots that last.

“I still wear my waffle stompers that I got in 1971. They’ve never needed any repair work done. LOVE them!” she said.

Last week I organized my mom’s closet for her. My brother and his wife had given her a new robe for Christmas. It’s gorgeous! Soft teal chenille, with a cozy faux fur collar. I didn’t know they made bathrobes with fur collars.

It’s probably time to retire my worn, but still serviceable robe. Yet I’m reluctant. I remember the day I bought it and the absolute optimism I felt at the impending birth of my long-awaited daughter.

I didn’t know that in a few weeks another blue bundle of boy would be placed in my arms, but 22 years later, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even the robe.

Gaming memories

In a recent column I asked readers to share their pinball and arcade game memories.

“Back in the 1980s some drinking establishments had video games built into the tabletop of some tables in their lounges,” wrote Garry Matlow. “I have many fond memories from my mid-20s of playing (and doing quite well at) Space Invaders at the Bennigan’s Tavern outside Baybrook Mall in far southeast Houston.”

Rodney Jenkins still dreams of Pac-Man – the game that dominated his life from 1977-78.

“I was a young unmarried pilot in Texas and learned the basics on layovers with Pac-Man games, mainly at a Ramada Inn in Lafayette, Louisiana,” he wrote. “I started to get good. Next, across the street from my apartment in Houston was an ice cream shop that had a Pac-Man game. On days off I did one of two things: Run and play Pac-Man. My highest score was over 186,000 but there were many players with greater scores. At 66 I continue to dream of owning a full-size original Pac-Man game to finally beat my old record.”

Reader Joseph Pallaria credits pinball with offering him stability during a turbulent time. As a teen, he’d scavenged for quarters in Salsbury Beach, Massachusetts.

“It was a different era in 1966-69. The Vietnam War was in full swing and GI’s filled bars,” he recalled. Combing through “the dozen or so bars would net me $5 a day and that was a lot of quid for a 14-year-old. It provided the next day’s worth of pinball time – back then games were only 5 cents, maybe 10 cents for a real fancy machine.”

But Pallaria said the impact pinball was profound.

“It provided me a medium of stability in a crazy time of hard drugs, the dark side of beach life and seedy people you may never want to associate with. It taught me about life early.”

Cindy Hval can be reached at dchval@juno.com. Hval is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories from the Greatest Generation” (Casemate Publishers, 2015).