Found something to think about and share:
Come on....Walk down memory lane with me! It will put a smile on your face....
WASN'T THIS US?
A little house with three bedrooms,
One bathroom, the car out on the street.
A mower that you had to push
To make the grass look neat.
In the kitchen on the wall
We only had one phone,
No need for recording things,
Someone was always home.
We only had a living room
Where we would congregate,
Unless it was at mealtime,
In the kitchen, where we ate.
We had no need for family rooms
Or extra rooms to dine.
When meeting as a family,
Those two rooms worked out fine.
We only had one TV set,
And channels, maybe two,
But always there was one of them
With something worth the view.
For snacks we had potato chips
Really tasting like a chip.
And if you wanted flavor,
There was Lipton's onion dip.
Store-bought snacks were rare, 'cuz
My mother liked to cook,
And nothing can compare to snacks
In Betty Crocker's book.
Weekends were for family trips
Or staying home to play.
We all did things together --
Even go to church and pray.
When we did our weekend trips
Depending on the weather,
No one stayed at home because
We would like to be together.
Sometimes we would separate
To do things on our own,
But we always knew where the others were,
Without our own cell phone.
Then there were the movies
With your favorite movie star,
And nothing can compare
To watching movies, right there in your car.
Then there were the picnics
At the peak of summer season,
Pack a lunch and find some trees
And never need a reason.
Get a baseball game together
With all the friends you know,
Have real action playing ball --
Without watching some video.
Remember when the doctor
Used to be our family's friend,
They didn't need insurance
Or a lawyer to defend?
The way that he took care of you
Or what he had to do,
Because he took an oath and strived
To do the best for you.
Remember going to the store
And shopping casually,
And when you went to pay for it
You used your own money.
Nothing that you had to swipe
Or punch in some amount,
And remember when a cashier
Actually had to count?
The milkman used to go
From neighbors - door to door,
Delivered for a few cents more
Than going to the store.
There was a time when letters mailed
Could be found right at our door,
Without a lot of junk mail ads
Sent out by every store.
The mailman knew each house by name
Knew for where it was sent;
There were not loads of mail addressed
To "present occupant".
There was a time when just one glance
Was all that it would take,
You would know what kind of car,
The model and the make.
They didn't look like turtles
Squeezing out for every mile;
They were streamlined, white walls, fins
And really had some style.
One time the music that you played
Whenever you would jive,
Was from a vinyl, big-holed record
Called a forty-five.
The record player had a post
To keep them all in line,
And then the records would drop down
And play one at a time.
Oh sure, we had our problems then,
Just like we do today.
But we were always striving,
To find a better way.
Oh, the simple life we lived
Still seems like so much fun,
How can you explain a game,
Just kick the can and run?
And why would boys put baseball cards
Between their bicycle spokes?
And for just a nickel, red machines
Had 8-ounce bottled Cokes?
This life seemed so much easier
And slower in some ways.
I love the new technology
But I sure do miss those days.
So time moves on and so do we
And nothing stays the same,
But I sure love to reminisce
And walk down memory lane.
With all today's technology
I'll grant that it's a plus!
It's still fun looking back and say,
Hey look guys, THAT WAS US!
Thanks Marvin, As a teenager in the fifties I lived it. How did we ever survive?
Rock and Roll forever!
Something like that could have been written in 1950, 1900, or 1850. We tend to think of the world of our childhood as the way things ought to be, and remember the good things while forgetting the bad. Why is Main Street in Disneyland in the style of 1910? Because that was Walt Disney's childhood. I have fond memories of the fifties, but while I was enjoying those happy years sheriff's deputies arrested a lady a few miles from me and put her in jail for moving into a house she owned in Gardena. She was the wrong color to suit them. Some of my childhood friends were born in concentration camps because their parents looked Japanese. Some American kids were deported, right along with their Mexican parents. Dickens had it right about the French revolution, and about most other times and places, including our own. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
Marvin, Thanks again for posting it.
Ahh - Memories.... But I only have 'Half-Zeimers' by being half-way 'there'....
It was best of times and it was the worst of times is right.
Anybody heard of or remember the 'county farm'?
It wasn't to pretty.
"LIVING ON A COUNTRY FARM"
WHEN SPRING FINALLY ARRIVES
THINGS START TO HAPPEN ON THE FARM,
THERE IS MUCH TO BE DONE
CLEANING UP AROUND THE BARN.
SPRINGS ARRIVAL MEANS ONE THING
THE FARMER WILL PLOW WITH THE MARE,
AND THE ANIMALS AROUND THE BARN
ALL PITCH IN TO DO THEIR SHARE.
THE LITTLE MICE ARE EATING
THE OLD FEED IN THE WHEAT BIN,
WAY HIGH UP IN THE RAFTERS
A NEST IS BEING BUILT BY A WREN.
DOWN PAST THE OLD ORCHARD,
I WALKED DOWN THE WINDING LANE,
SCATTERED PURPLE VIOLETS NODDED THEIR HEADS
THE CLOUDS LOOKED LIKE MORE RAIN.
THE LITTLE HEN WAS BUSY SCRATCHING
FOR WORMS UNDER THE APPLE TREES,
THE BLOSSOMS WERE RICH IN AROMA
COVERED WITH BUTTERFLIES AND BEES.
THE FARMER'S WIFE WAS AT THE CHICKEN HOUSE
SHE THREW HANDFULS OF GRAIN OUT THE DOOR,
THE OLD ROOSTER WAS WATCHING HER
BEGGING FOR JUST ONE SCOOP MORE.
A MOCKING BIRD WAS SINGING A LOVELY SONG
AS HE SAT ON A BENT FENCE POST,
THE CATTLE ARE DRINKING AT THE POND
BUT I BELIEVE THE WORK MARE DRINKS THE MOST.
MY FAVORITE OLD JERSEY COW
IS WAITING BY THE TROUGH,
SHE BELIEVES THERE IS STILL A LOT
OF BALED HAY STORED IN THE LOFT.
IT IS A LOVELY TIME TO RECALL
LOTS OF PLEASANT MEMORIES OF MAY,
AS CHILDREN, MY SISTERS AND I
VISITED OUR GRANDPARENTS EVERY DAY.
Author: ADINE CATHEY
There was an old man from Nantucket