Cowboys and Indians, tag, roller skating, jump rope, baseball, dodge ball, Davy Crockett coonskin caps, paper dolls, Mouseketeers, marbles, Ginny dolls and monkey bars. Walking to school or taking a bus no matter the weather. Playing outside until the street lights came on, chasing the Good Humor truck down the street, sitting close to the fan on a hot summer night, etc. etc. etc.
This is part of what it meant to be a child growing up in post-World War II America. Most Baby Boomers remember it very well.
Perhaps that’s why our long-term memory remains so good; to more vividly recall simpler times.
For most Americans life was a quiet time sparsely laced with moments of terror and foreboding. Families were building businesses, buying homes and becoming invested in their communities.
However, the foreboding and terror was pretty much reserved for the older generation. They were the ones who had to deal with Red China, The Cold War and bomb shelters.
A kid’s version of terror was being sent to the principal’s office, watching Michael Landon in I was a Teenage Werewolf or realizing blowing cigarette smoke out the bathroom window won’t always cut it.
Of course, there were some disquieting moments for us Boomers. Especially when we were marched down into the asbestos-covered pipe bowels of our school basement to escape an atom bomb.
Looking backward, it all seems so foolish, doesn’t it? As if an atom bomb could be stopped by moving into the basement. Ironic that the real danger was the asbestos.
I also remember polio as a scary moment until Dr. Jonas Salk created the vaccine that ended its scourge.
We all remember lining up in school, receiving a pink-splotched sugar cube placed in a paper cupcake holder and passed out by the school nurse.
Beat the hell out of shots in the arm.
I suppose polio must have had a much more frightening impact on our generation than first believed since we all remember receiving the sugar cube so clearly.
There are those who will quickly point out that these memories are no more than rose-colored reflections on times we romanticize. I don’t think so.
Any Boomer will instantly defend their childhood in a far quieter and more charming world.
As an old movie fan, I’ve watched my share of old movies. Boomer life in small town America was so naïve, fun and easy to navigate.
College pep rallies instead of blood-thirsty protests. Picnics in the park or at a friend’s, or filling the blow-up rubber pool on summer’s steamy days.
The excitement of your home’s first air conditioning unit.
There are many who say yes, but what about diseases with no cures, the fact people died younger and TV sets were black and white and twelve inches. Don’t forget having to use the antennas with aluminum foil to get the darn picture right. Or did you forget party lines, the fact women were second class citizens and father was the one who always knew best?
Of course, progress is a good thing, well in most areas perhaps.
I still contend that quality of life isn’t dependent on how many likes you have on TikTok, how many friends on Facebook or the latest Netflix offering.
The food was real, not chemicals, neighborhoods were tree lined and neighbors knew and cared about one another. At least where I grew up.
Yes, yes I know airplanes are faster, food is delivered, the Internet has brought the world into our homes, streaming services make going to the movies irrelevant and a robot named Alexa is sitting in our house spying on our every move. And that to most people is a good thing.
I must counter with the fact SIRI hasn’t understood a word I’ve said in three years. It’s like talking to someone who is deaf and refuses to wear a hearing aid.
“Hello Siri, Siri I said Maple not Whipple.” So yes, the stress levels of modern life can be over the top.
I simply don’t remember that so much as a kid.
Did our parents feel the pressures we were protected from?
I know every generation tries to protect the young. Yet, it seems that the negatives weren’t as scary.
Okay, I’ll give you the atom bomb, but terrorism, crime and AI trumps that by miles.
Were people nicer? Absolutely. Could you get a malted or a phosphate at the drugstore when buying the new Archie Annual? Sure.
Did the baseball stadium smell like freshly mown grass at the games? You bet. And it was the best smell.
Most would choose progress, but of course at what price?
What are we willing to pay for faster, bigger, new and improved?
And a question I ask myself often these days…are we indeed moving forward as a species or is that an illusion?
Do we tell ourselves man is evolving when in our hearts we know far too many are becoming more vicious than the dinosaurs we replaced.
Do I see the past in America through rose-colored glasses? I’m sure I do. Would I want to give up all the new and modern inventions we now possess? I’m afraid I’d have to think about that one.
Our children believe their generation grew up in a peaceful and charming America as well. I imagine our grandchildren will believe the same.
We are nothing if not adaptable.
But honestly, looking back it just seemed so darned easy. Can anyone look around at this world and use the term easy to describe the present? I’d have to say not in a million years. So, I’ll just enjoy my memories and hope life takes a beat, moves a bit backward to recalibrate and slows down the pace. Actually, that might be the best progress we could all hope for.
I know I am.
NormaZager.com 