Some things just don't exist anymore, except at garage sales or maybe antique stores.

When's the last time you used a letter-opener? Unless you have one left over from a bygone era, you probably don't have more letters than you can open with your thumb or a sturdy pen.

Speaking of which, I wonder if and when our pens will go the way of those letter-openers.

It's interesting to think back on some technologies that have faded into obscurity.

Some of them don't live long.

Somewhere up in the garage attic I know I have an electric typewriter. There's an old 386 computer up there, too. But most amazing of all is the computer/typewriter that is stored amidst the rubble there. Not quite a typewriter and not quite a computer, it sort of looked like both.

You could (maybe still can, if its guts haven't rotted away) write an entire page of words, letters, and numbers before loading in a piece of paper and watching it all print out at once - not a letter at a time, like an ordinary typewriter. And there was a full screen, so corrections could be made prior to printing.

But it all came out like from a simple typewriter: no variations in type sizes or styles.

Some of those old technologies have profound sociology attached to them.

We had several of those old amber cut-glass ashtrays for sale at the Advance Relay for Life team's garage sale this weekend.

When's the last time you walked into a friend's home and saw a really nice ashtray sitting on the living room coffee table?

They used to be ubiquitous. Even people who weren't smokers themselves always had ashtrays to accommodate their smoking friends and acquaintances - on the coffee table, on the end tables... heck, they were often built right into the arms of sofas and easy chairs.

Ashtrays were standard art projects at school - even elementary school.

I remember making several over the years: at least two were made of clay, all painted pretty and nice, and in my metalwork class in (I think) Grade 8 one of the standard projects was to beat an ashtray out of a sheet of copper. I got a very good mark for mine - I remember, because although I always aced the written exams, my ten thumbs ensured that I didn't often get very good marks for the hands-on projects.

By the time I made my varnished copper ashtray in the metal shop, my Dad had quit smoking. He had come to a realization that it wasn't just his own decision whether or not to risk death by tobacco.

He realized that part of the responsibility of being a parent - and a good husband - was to be there for his family for as long as he could be.

(Actually, he has been quite successful at that - he's 95 years, seven months, and 25 days old today... the hours will vary, depending on when you pick up your paper... but who's counting, anyway?)

So since Dad wasn't smoking anymore, and Mom never did smoke, I decided to use the ashtray myself. That's when I took up the evil habit which enslaved me through high school and university before I, too, grew a brain.

Hmmm... kids making ashtrays in grade school and then becoming tobacco addicts in high school, despite their parents' best efforts... ya think there's a connection?

Ashtrays and letter-openers you can find at almost any garage sale.

But you still can't buy corporate consciences at any second-hand venue. Perhaps that's because they are so precious that anybody who has one will never give it up.

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