How I survived the mid 20th Century.

"Life was simpler, not easier!"

The Olden days: The current generation cannot grasp the hardships we had to endure before the advent of television, the cell phone, the information superhighway, and of course, Subway and McDonalds. The conditions were almost medieval.

FOOD: The life of hardship commenced when we would get up in the morning eat porridge(also known as oatmeal), eggs fresh from the chicken, homemade bread with butter. It was difficult eating eggs from free range chickens, maple flavored oatmeal, deliciously buttered homemade bread. No tasty chemical preservatives were in sight. The dairy would deliver fresh milk everyday. It didn't have a shelf life. The cream would be on the top and the milk below. After WW II people started to see stuff called "Oleo".

Oleo was strange stuff. It came in a soft plastic container bag. Oleo was white. It had an orange capsule stuck on the inside of the bag. You had to squeeze the capsule and break it and massage the orange stuff evenly through the plastic bag so it would look like butter. It wasn't so bad. In fact, I became so accustom to it that I didn't like butter any more. It took me 20 years before I started enjoying butter again.

My Grandfather was a dairy farmer. We always had fresh eggs, milk, and bread.

My other grandfather was a Blacksmith. We always had....ummm....horseshoes.

In retrospect I am thinking that food was not really a problem unless you enjoy the taste of chemicals. They do have some tasty chemicals these days. I purchased some raspberry cookies last week. There was no raspberries in it. It kinda tasted like raspberries. It had a lot of high fructose corn syrup. It had some other stuff that had nice chemically compounded names like hypotherapeuticsalivanate or oxobenzathenite. Doesn't that make you start to drool? yum! yum!

School:

I attended a small school. We had only 2 school buses. If you missed the bus you had a long walk ahead of you. Too bad for you. The school buses didn't stop in front of your house and honk their horn or the bus driver didn't go to your door and ask if Wilbur was done with his breakfast yet. NOOOOO! You had to be at the bus stop when the bus got there. Not almost there. There!! The bus driver had a schedule to meet. He had other bus runs. If you were a hundred feet from the bus stop and running like a maniac, the bus driver would smile and wave at you and keep going.

It was a tough situation. If you walked to school it was uphill both ways. To and from. Bare footed. During the winter. At least that is what I told my nephews when they were growing up.

Elementary School: Kindergarten was a breeze. Ironically, I took a strange route in the beginning. I started school when I was four and a half years old. I had to get on a bus that wasn't a school bus. It would take me about three or four blocks from the school. I had to walk the rest of the way.

The school did not have a Kindergarten. So I started in first grade. This may not have been a good idea. I tolerated it for a few months. On a warm November day I decided that I had enough schooling and I was ready for some adventure. After I got off the bus, walked to the school, walked to the baseball field and started up the mountain. There was a very steep hill behind the school. I just started up the hill. I had a bag lunch with me. I stayed there all day. Near the end of the day I climbed down the mountain and tried to sneak by the gym class.

The teacher caught me. No one knew I had been missing all day long. I believe that was near the end of my career at that particular school.

The next year I started at a different school. The new school had Kindergarten. So I started Kindergarten at the new school. This has to be a defining moment in my search for self esteem. How many kids do you know that start school at one level and not only does he not get promoted but he is set back one year? So instead of being in second grade, I am in Kindergarten. When you lose ground at that level it is pretty sad.

I hope high school will be easier than this.

Baby boomer's memory handbook (1950's Ed.)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Really????

1950 -1960:Actually things were almost idyllic. The worst of times? Hardly.

Life before television was almost barbaric. We had to find ways to amuse ourselves. Things were different. There are things that a baby boomer will remember. There are events you try forget.

This was the era of Polio, the iron lung, McCarthyism, the cold war, the threat of nuclear war. A great thing was happening at the end of WWII (1945). President Truman proposed a health care plan for all Americans. As of this year (2010) things seem to be moving along quite nicely.

McCarthyism: Joe had a good idea. Who liked commies in the 50's?Nobody. Let's expose them. OK!!! I like this plan. Hey, Joe is doing a great job.

A month later I see my name published in the paper. I have been reported to be a communist. HUH???!!!

You go before McCarthy committee two weeks later and state, "I am not a communist."

Joe: Did you or did you not have the "The Daily Laborer", a commie front newspaper in your house?

Me:No. Joe: I have a signed affidavit by your garbage man that you had a copy of this paper in your garbage. I have the paper here. It smells communistic.

Me: Sir, I think that is the smell of cat urine. My dad gets these papers at work. I line my litterbox with it."

Joe: "Hah!! So he works for a communist front organization. Who does he work for?"

Me: "He works for you, sir."

That is how it was. A good idea goes bad.

Forgotten cars of the 50's: I saw a Hudson Terraplane once. My uncle had a 1955 Hudson Hornet. It was a good car. He may still be driving it. He is in his 90's now.

A strange looking car. It right up there with the Henry J. I had an uncle who owned a Henry J. He was still driving it in the early 80's. It was a bit quirky at that point. The Edsel? That seemed like a nifty car to me. We are speaking of a time when Ford made a hardtop convertible (it disappeared into the trunk) and Chrysler had push button shifting on the steering wheel. The spare tire was real. You could recognize a car type from a half mile away. This is the era of the legendary 1957 Chevy. You can go to a place that sells model cars and you will find the 57 Chevy on the shelf. I don't think you will find a 1992 Toyota or 1998 Ford Taurus.

Fashion of the 50's: I began my adolescence at a strange fashion time.

Shoes: White bucks and penny loafers were my fashion choices. It was white bucks if you were going for the Pat Boone look. It was boots if you were going for the James Dean look. The James Dean look was Levi's, white T-shirt with a pack of Camels rolled up in the sleeve. I often dreamed that Pat Boone and James Dean would meet up on some street and start fighting. Pat would be getting pounded badly. Bloody nose, black eye, sore ribs. James would grab onto Pat's shirt and rip it. That is when Pat would go ballistic and start beating the crap of James. Pat would be pounding James' head on the pavement.....and Elvis Presley would rush in from somewhere and save James Dean from imminent death at the hands of Pat Boone. Elvis would snarl at Pat, " Look at the blood from his head on the sidewalk." Pat would answer, "That is Wildroot Cream Oil Hair Tonic, You Cretin." A befuddled Elvis would answer, " Don't ever step on my Blue Suede shoes."

Maybe this happen. Did I dream this? Well, anyway.....clothing was important.

Dressing for a date: My first two dates were disasters. I did not dress correctly for my first date. I had an identity crisis which is very common among teenagers then and today. My Mother made me wear heavy galoshes over my shoes, blue corduroy pants,

A white t-shirt with a box of candy cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve, (I wasn't allowed to smoke.) a headful of Wildroot cream oil, a coonskin cap, (Davey Crocket was very popular at the time, hence, I thought, fashionable.) and of course an umbrella.

The girl was dressed weird. She had layers of petticoats under hooped poodle skirt. I am sure she was wearing a diaper under all this. There is NO WAY she could get all that stuff off in time to poop. I know, I tried to penetrate the fortress to no avail. another thing that doomed the date. I could not penetrate the hair spray on her head with my hand. She was impenetrable everywhere. she wasn't too keen about my hair either.

she told me not to put my head on anything. she also asked me if I wanted to wrap my head in a towel. I guess we were not made for each other.

My second date did not go any better. My friends set me up with a blind date. She wasn't blind. She was in an iron lung. I did not know that until I arrived at her house.

I couldn't figure how I was going to get it in the car. My dad was waiting out in the car. He was going to drive us to the movies. I suppose I could have gotten my uncle Pete's truck and taken her to the drive in theater but that didn't seem practical since I couldn't drive. So I just stayed at her house and we played records. I asked her once if she wanted to dance. She rolled her eyes, but then smiled. She laughed at my faux pas.

It wasn't such a bad date. She recovered enough in time so she would not be in an iron lung all her life. She actually had a fairly normal life.

To give you an idea how carefree and happy we were in those days, we had a little song we sang.

"Hit the dirt, Join the crowd,

Mama, look at mushroom cloud.

looka you daddy, He Know!

Mushroom cloud made him ugly so."

This was a Calypso song. It could have been sung by Harry Belafonte.

BRING BACK THE 50'S (Another trip down Memory lane)

Was There a more peaceful time than the fifties? I mean really.

Forget about the fallout shelters. Remember the fire drills at school? Dive under your desk. That will save you long enough to have a slow lingering death from radiation poisoning. Maybe. Forget about Joe McCarthy accusing your Uncle Percy of being a Communist because he read Redbook Magazine. Forget that the word "gay" had a totally different meaning. forget that getting to first, second, or third base was totally baseball terminology. It had nothing to do with sex.

What was sex? In the fifties it was a distant rumor and a storage house of misinformation. I was only a kid. I was more interested in baseball and swimming after baseball during the summer. During the winter it was playing basketball in a driveway.

The basket was over the garage doors. Sometimes the driveway was paved, sometimes not. Since the driveways were usually for one car, the court was long and narrow. There was a premium on good passing. This is what we did for fun.

Television changed everything. The first people who had a television had to be wonderful people. We did not have a TV. So we went to the neighbors house, knocked on their door and ask if we could watch TV. Usually they would invite us in.

The only thing they knew about us was that we lived in the neighborhood. The only thing we knew about them is that they had a TV. We could tell. The house would be dark except for the silver glow of the TV.

Can You imagine doing something like that now? Your neighbor would probably gun you down has a home invader. Life was different back then.

The Television families were like us. They didn't have problems. They had minor misunderstandings.

There were four main TV families. There was Ozzie and Harriet Nelson, Jim and Margaret Anderson, Ward and June Cleaver, Alex and Donna Stone. They were your typical American family of the fifties.

They all had jobs. Well, Almost all. Ozzie Nelson didn't have a job. I don't think he ever did. He must have been on disability or something. Perhaps a mental problem. It was called "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet." Adventure??? Ozzie was no Mcgiver. He had to hire someone to sharpen his pencils. What adventure?

He just walked around in his sweater. He would walk into the closet and stay there for a while. He never said, "I'm going to the Office." He usually said something like, "I think I will take a nap." I believe he lived off his son, Ricky, after he became famous.

We have Jim Anderson of "Father Knows Best."

He had a job. He worked in the insurance field.

Jim gave all of his children nicknames. There was "Kitten, Princess, and Bud."

It appears to me that the Anderson had an easier life than the Nelsons. The Anderson show usually was about Bud forgot to buy a loaf of bread and Jim had to buy it or Kitten wore mismatched socks to school. The Nelsons had to find Ozzie a job or a Caregiver.

Ward and June Cleaver clearly had the biggest problem. In Leave It To Beaver, It is very obvious they are not talking about an Estate Bequeathment. Beaver is probably the most confused and incompetent kid to grow up in the 20th century. He often goes down to the firehouse to talk to his old friend "Gus" for advise. It is obvious that his firehouse buddy is in the final stages of dementia. Good advise indeed. Ward is always sputtering for the Beaver to do something properly. Obviously Ozzie and the Beaver could be roommates at the County Home. They are both totally lost. They would wander around with name tags on their wrist.

The Stones were boring but they were a handsome family. The father was competent. He was a doctor. The kids were semi-intelligent. The mother played by "Donna Reed" seemed fairly competent at keeping the house clean and the food was on the table at suppertime. Numerous discussions were held at the supper table. In my family it was "shut up and eat, Your mash potatoes just flew across the table."

I cringe at how these families would be portrayed in this day and age.

I suspect that Ozzie would still be wondering around like a lost soul. Rick would be a druggie musician. Harriet would have a boyfriend on the side. Ozzie still clueless.

It would be different.

The fifties were better.

My first big crush ( a trip down memory lane.)

Desdamona Cameltoe where are you now?  You were my first crush.  That was in junior high school.  You were my dream girl.  

At thirteen I started planning my life as an adult. I had just ended a successful career in little league baseball.   I was going to move onto Junior league baseball, high school baseball and by the age of twenty I would be in the majors or at the very least triple A. 

You were to be my trophy wife. I was to have a lucrative career as the second baseman for the New York Yankees.

Something went horrible wrong.  Not something, Everything.

The first thing: I stopped growing. I was a dwarf among men at thirteen. My friends had strange voices that would change in the middle of conversations.  I still was squeaky.

second thing: curve ball. Little league didn't have to many curveballs unless you got a line drive to the crotch.

Third thing: While my height stagnated, you grew in every direction that was desirable.

I had admired  you from afar and you knew it.  I decided I would ask her to the Junior Prom.

After agonizing for three weeks with many restless nights trying to work up my courage I  decided I would ask her. I was sweating like a dog in a Chinese Restaurant.

I walked up to her  with knees shaking.  I babbled something like, "prom..me..you...go

...us...sit ...prom?"

She replied immediately. " Oh, sorry, Gunther Wartshlong just asked me five minutes ago."

Gunther Wartshlong was the token exchange student at our school. He was from Germany.  Gunther was tall, blonde, and a closet Nazi.  I knew this because I would wave at him and he would forget where he was and give a Nazi salute.

Well, Gunther took my life partner to the Junior Prom.  He dated her the rest of the school year.  I went to the prom with Cornelia Crenlow. 

In the fall of my senior year It became apparent that Gunther was not just dating Desdamona. When she came back to school her slim little waist line was gone.

It had been replaced by a huge belly that you could have used for a picnic table when she was standing.  She was voted "most likely to explode" by her classmates.

At Christmas she left.  I never saw her again. 

I heard about her.  She had twins.

Siamese twins.  a boy and a girl.  I heard they were joined at the arms.

Since she waffled between Jehovah Witness and Christian Science in the religion department, the state ordered that they be separated before they reach puberty and accidentally have sex with each and have each other charged with incest.

Well, that is what I heard.

Nostalgia. (the good old days)