I gave my brother a sweatshirt for his 70th birthday that read, “I survived the ’60s twice!”
I, too, grew up during that decade. Younger people believe we are close to our expiration dates. Past them, actually, but no one’s noticed yet.
I miss some aspects of the 1960s.
First, I was considered too skinny. Bread and butter sprinkled with sugar would help me grow up healthy and strong. Sigh.
The media consisted of print, radio, television and vinyl. They never eavesdropped.
Television variety show performers sang and danced without votes, masks or Simon. Cheesy sitcoms dominated, but aren’t harmless, stupid shows like Mr. Ed better than harmful, stupid ones?
Parents could rubber-stamp Disney productions as appropriate.
Gas station attendants pumped gas, cleaned windshields and fixed more than a hot dog. Plus, gas cost 25.9 cents per gallon.
During phone calls, we spoke with other human beings.
Nobody locked doors in our small town. Schools and churches remained open. Security codes and guards? Unknown.
Recently, I visited my former school band director, now an octogenarian. We marveled that after summer practices, we often hiked through cornfields to the woods — no permission slips required.
Mr. C. didn’t lead assertion or feel-good sessions. Unlike my daughter, who said if she had to watch one more self-esteem video, she’d puke, I didn’t receive fire hose doses of you-must-believe-this.
However, my brain hasn’t expired to the point that I don’t recall negatives during the 1960s.
I could wear slacks only at home. Girls wore dresses even to ball games.
I don’t miss bright blue eye shadow. Or white lipstick.
Smoking was restricted … nowhere. Children even “smoked” candy cigarettes.
I remember KKK recruitment signs in restaurants. A Caucasian never served an African American.
What Boomer doesn’t recall being slathered with Vicks® VapoRub™? Also, injured klutzes like me wore orange Mercurochrome like war paint. A small side note: Mercurochrome contained mercury.
I don’t miss Vietnam. And assassinations du jour.
Jell-O in flavors like tomato and celery.
Toni® home permanents and brush rollers.
Because of nuclear testing, we were forbidden to eat snowflakes. Get-under-your-desk drills for nuclear emergencies seemed odd, even then.
Finally, working out consisted of using machines to “shake off” fat.
Actually, that might be nice.
Right before a snack of bread and butter, sprinkled with sugar.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What decade makes you feel sentimental and why?