Tag: JFK

JFK Jr. Devil or Angel? Baby Boomers Really Don’t Care

The television movie about JFK Jr. and his wife Carolyn Bessette’s death seems to be creating a litany of criticism or support from various factions. I’ve given this some thought and it’s an interesting dynamic at work, but why?

Getting older means although the mind may be slowing a little, memories seem more vivid. I’m not certain whether that’s because it doesn’t seem as long ago anymore, or the feelings we felt when we were young come rushing back more quickly now.

Even simple things like a favorite pizza conjure up the sensibility of being with friends and loving that particular food.

Strangely, I never seem to be able to recapture the taste of the foods from my youth, only the impressions. So why should a TV movie have so much to do with childhood feelings?

John F. Kennedy Jr.’s death seemed to resonate differently according to your generation. To some an ending, to some nothing.

I’ve noticed young people don’t regard the Kennedy name with the same reverence as Baby Boomers.

Listening to the way John John is being described, I’ve taken the time to try and discover why.

It’s clear that despite the fact President John F. Kennedy was not by any means a saint, Baby Boomers still embrace his memory. Why?

I can only speak for myself, but my recollections of the first three years of the 1960s are still very vivid and emotionally charged.

This is in great part due to the fact JFK’s death was one of those once in a lifetime

experiences you seem to carry with you forever.

That week was burned in my soul and changed not only the world, but me. I’m certain I’m not the only one who feels that way.

The question, “Where were you when JFK was shot?” comes up on most first dates for Baby Boomers. Perhaps silly, but true because it unites us in a special way, a shared moment in time that forms a bond. Instant recall of a moment that lives on inside us.

For those too young to know I will describe America on November 22, 1963.

We were shocked and filled with a painful and overwhelming sadness. As though we’d fallen into a bottomless black hole that encased our entire body and soul.  

Like robots programmed to sit, watch and sob. Tears fell without any inducement at the sights and sounds we witnessed, as one shocking and devastating moment continued to emerge from our television sets.

Life stopped and we sat glued to the screen incapable of movement or joy.

When Lee Harvey Oswald was murdered in front of our eyes in real time, we fell deeper down a shock spiral uncertain of whether awake or dreaming. Time stopped, we sat.

The pain seemed to hover in the air above our homes, neighborhoods and cities like a dark cloud of despair.

Memories come flooding back today as glimpses into a past we’ve carried with us a lifetime.

Jackie’s blood-soaked pink suit, a convertible speeding through the streets as she climbed on the trunk, her face when Lyndon Johnson took the oath of office on the plane.

The sound of horses’ hoofs clopping along down Pennsylvania avenue pulling a military ammunition wagon with a flag-draped coffin. Then probably one of the most heart wrenching moments of our entire generation, John John saluting as the casket passed. A Dallas police station and another shocking murder.

The day JFK was killed conjures up more than just tragedy, it evokes the sentiments of a time in America that died with JFK and can never be reborn.

That child saluting his martyred father is something none of us could ever forget. More than just a young boy’s goodbye to a parent.

JFK’s death also marks the day when the guns came out in America and never left. The turning point for a nation that changed into a violent gun-toting jungle that continues its non-stop steady fall into chaos.

A day that marked the end of post-war America, and ushered in a new era filled with anger, mistrust and violence.

Gone was the sense of optimism that prevailed when the WWII soldiers came home and the building of a country began. Those upbeat feelings of hope and excitement for the future were replaced. Sadly, to be ever marked by assassination, blood and shock after shock as we witnessed the fall from that heady pedestal we occupied.

It was a strange new America. One fraught with protests, marches, anger, hatred, guns and more guns as we struggled to find a way out of the incredible pain to which we’d awakened on November 22nd.

Life went on of course, but in a new land, one without a young inspiring leader. JFK embodied the very soul of youth and hope for a future filled with the promise of a post war era.

Now violence set the tone, there were new streets filled with crime, protests and hostility.

Did America turn into something different overnight? No, of course not. It was a gradual metamorphosis, subtle and slow. Metastasizing to pockets and places in a society that never imagined this darkness ever existed.

That is why when Jackie Kennedy’s reference to Camelot was introduced it became the theme song of a generation. Before it all changed. Before the America Baby Boomers knew morphed into a strange and unfamiliar place lacking adolescent innocence.

Stumbling along without that vibrant, handsome leader and his beautiful family to inspire us to greatness. To be better versions of ourselves, and to “ask not what our country could do for us, but what we could do for our country.”

Is it any wonder we miss him, flaws and all?

Is it so strange that when we see John John we witness a missed opportunity to restore the America we loved, but can never return?  

Were the Kennedy’s perfect people? No, not at all. Did we know that then? No, we didn’t. Would most Baby Boomers say they are happy we found out how imperfect they were? I doubt it. I’d prefer living with my memories of a simpler time, a hopeful one, in a far different America. As we age into a world we no longer understand or recognize do we need those memories of happier times? Indeed.  

Am I ignoring the darker underpinnings of America then? Of course, but my memories are subjective, albeit not always realistic.

I often wonder what this country would be today had Kennedy lived to continue his stewardship and positive march forward into his U.S.A. If guns and violence hadn’t been given an open invitation to entrench their evil into the fabric of that quiet, lovely country that felt undemanding, safe and optimistic.

One that inspired all of us and the entire world.  

To me when someone criticizes JFK Jr. it’s as if each word knocks another jewel off a resplendent Faberge egg. Until it becomes a hollow shell lacking the luster and beauty by which it once dazzled.

Are we merely waxing nostalgic when Baby Boomers choose to hang onto the gleaming perfection of a place where we once lived and thrived?

I wish today’s generations could understand and experience even a small part of our America, our illusion, our Camelot.

When Did I Become a DJ’s Song Introduction?

How many times through the years have you heard a DJ introduce a recording as an oldie but a goodie.

I now realize that I have become exactly that, an oldie but a goodie.

And what might you ask makes you think you are a goodie? Oldie one gets without the need for an explanation.

Perhaps it is the fact my memory now resides in Google and the things I remember and treasure are on Facebook pages I share with thousands of others. We realize there is a limited number of us who are aware things we once adored ever existed. But thankfully I can still recall the things that made childhood so special.

Of course the very accomplishment of reaching that certain age, puts you in a category that should be applauded.

As Barry Manilow sings, “I made it through the rain…”

So if indeed I did, and we all did, then what now?

What is our next great achievement?

Becoming an oldie but a goodie seems rather lackluster, although damn nice to hear.

What is our next stage? Antique?

Rare antiquity? Salvageable?

Should I run every time I see someone resembling Indiana Jones heading in my direction?

Is my fate to stand alongside Cleopatra’s barge in some museum as an example of how wrinkles evolved?  

It must give one pause. So I’m pausing. Largely because I need to more often now. Pause I mean. Racing through stuff is no longer the option it once was.

Currently, sharing becomes selective. Telling your grandchildren about meeting Soupy Sales loses its flavor when they turn to you with a blank stare and ask, “What’s a Soupy Sales?”

I now understand our accomplishments, exciting moments, and fulfilled goals must be taken at face value. Our face. And despite the fact we now have so many more moments to share, there are fewer left who have any idea what we’re talking about.

Thus the need for Facebook pages dedicated to stuff that happened sixty years ago.

So finding an old hanger from a department store we hung out at over sixty years ago that no longer exists seems exciting to us. Especially when you can post it on your Facebook page and there will actually be others who are equally jubilant.  

I dread to think what would happen if Facebook disappeared and we had to wander the streets talking to ourselves or anyone who would listen about how we found the recipe for J.L. Hudson’s Maurice dressing..

I’d prefer to tell my grandchildren that elevators used to have uniformed people in them pushing the buttons and opening doors.

Still, as their eyes glaze over you might regret not posting about it on Facebook instead.

Here’s a scary thought. What if you had to go through life boring everyone you meet until you heard snoring as you recount how you lost your skate key from around your neck.  

Can you even imagine how millennials would look at you if you told them your mother filled twenty books of S&H Green Stamps to get a toaster?

Or that a bank used to give small appliances away to get you in the door to open an account?

Now you’re lucky if there’s anyone there to even help you at a teller window.

I don’t believe they want to be bored when you share these little gems from your past. I just think young people can’t in any way relate. Let’s face it, things are very different now.

There is no way anyone would believe you didn’t pay for light bulbs or Bill Knapp’s gave you a free cake for dessert on your birthday.

It so begs credulity you may as well walk into a party and announce you just arrived from Mars on the Concord.

Telling my grandsons we had trucks driving through the neighborhood selling baked goods. Or a milkman dressed like milk sounds like a fairy tale to kids that can order anything they want with one click on Amazon.

Yes, I understand that times change and life moves at breakneck speed, especially as you age. Still, is it so terrible to believe Clarence got his wings when that bell rang?

I agree living in the moment may be the right thing to do. But is wanting to remember some of the happiest times of your life and share them so bad?

I feel lucky that my grandsons will take time off from building robots or Minecraft and listen to my tales of the past. Sure, a yawn may slip out, but they listen. And at times they are even intrigued by my tales from ancient times like the fifties and sixties. Or the events that colored our lives in the past.

I can’t tell you how often my grandson has asked me to tell him about the day JFK was assassinated because he knows how important a memory it is for me.

So even if it’s a pity listen, I’ll take it gladly because it’s borne out of love. And at least he understands who John F. Kennedy was and how much he meant to Baby Boomers.

I know we need to have a balance now. It’s important to keep making new memories as we selfishly guard the old. Exactly what that balance is, don’t ask me. I still consider a balanced breakfast a sleeve of Oreos dipped in a glass of milk.

Some Promises Kept. But Where is My Beep Beep Rosie?

Promises Promises! Where is my Beep Beep Rosie?

If anyone has tried the new wonder called Virtual Reality you will feel as cheated as I do.

Where was our virtual reality when we were young?

Okay, I admit childhood today requires the ability to escape the craziness, but hey, we did too when we were teens. But I guess we should be grateful that we have our grandchildren to guide us through this strange new world.

So how does it feel?

Well for those of you who haven’t been fortunate enough to try VR yet, let me tell you, it’s amazing.

I can fly, without leaving the ground. Although I do get a bit nauseous. It is really scary when you’re standing on a cliff and it seems so real you’re afraid any second you’ll fall off the earth.

That’s how authentic this thing is. I actual sometimes feel like if I move one step I’ll drop into an abyss. I really love this whole able to leap tall buildings in a single bound thing.

The technology, and it was promised for a very long time, does not disappoint.

I remember hearing about all of these gadgets when we were kids. I’m still waiting for Beep Beep Rosie. But at least with VR I can watch a virtual Beep Beep Rosie cleaning my house.

Jetpacks, now that’s something I could really get behind. Beam me up Scotty.

The ability to strap on a backpack and fly to the store. Wow, just think about it. No gas stations, no charging EVs, it’s just up we go. What fun and so easy.

Baby Boomers can really appreciate what it means to escape into virtual reality. How great it is to get out of Dodge? Or any of these new fangled inventions like cell phones. Remember party lines and when you got your own phone line?

But young people have no idea. So, what is the benefit of this VR? Is it merely a cool way to spend time, taking a video game to another level or is it something more? Is it not really a toy, but a glimpse into a future divorced from real life.

Perhaps it’s the new reality, a parallel universe where one can go to fly, see beautiful places, travel to other lands, even walk with dinosaurs. Play games with avatars so lifelike it could freak you out.

For my part I would love to have a virtual reality where I could sit down and have lunch with Moses and ask him about schlepping through the desert.

Or maybe spend some time with JFK or ask Marilyn how he was in bed. Wouldn’t it be amazing to chat with Jack Ruby and find out why he killed Lee Harvey Oswald?

I do find that the more time I spend in that ether world of VR the more I want to. But my mind usually says this is too much, let’s sit down for a while.

It’s so real it’s difficult to grasp and I wind up with a headache.

But is it worth it? You bet. Seeing the world without running through an airport.

Climbing Machu Picchu without sore feet. Standing on top of Mt. Everest and looking down at the world, visiting the North Pole without a coat. Jumping into the Grand Canyon without breaking your neck. How could this possibly not be the coolest thing ever?

Kids today can’t truly appreciate the significance of an invention this amazing because they didn’t have to wait for it an entire lifetime.

I’m saying that unless you’ve seen Howdy Doody’s strings or had to watch television with aluminum foil on the rabbit ears and stand in a certain place to get reception, it’s difficult to really grasp the wonders of VR.

How amazing it is putting on a mask and leaving the planet to fly through space. Or go deep-sea diving at the Coral Reef without any sharks, or eat at five-star restaurants in Italy without ingesting a single calorie.

Many might poo poo the wonders of this new technology, but as someone who has been impatiently awaiting the inventions we read about as kids, I have no intention of taking any of this for granted.

I can golf like Jack Nicklaus, fight Darth Vader and travel to the top of the Eiffel Tower without leaving the room.

At a time in my life where I feel so unable to be daring and over the top courageous (my kids would enrobe me in bubble wrap and lock me in the house) I can be anything or go anywhere I want with Virtual Reality.

I guess by now you’ve figured out what a fan I am of this new invention.

Some things we wait for in life are sadly a bit disappointing when they finally appear. VR is not. It is actually far more phenomenal than I anticipated.

It’s a video game on steroids.

It’s Pac Man in IMAX, it’s a trip to Hershey Pennsylvania, it’s staring at the Sistine Chapel without winding up with a sore neck. It’s wandering through the streets of Rome or Spain without being robbed or ripped off and flying over London like Marley’s ghost. Someday soon you’ll probably enjoy the biggest hits on Broadway without paying a scalper for tickets.

All will be possible and you merely have to don a mask to enter all these new worlds.

There is no limit to what VR will ultimately deliver and the universes it will open.

I for one am excited about how much more it will do in the future, because as of now it’s far more than even I ever dreamed.

Perhaps that’s the answer to aging. VR make me sixteen again. Damn, I look good and no plastic surgery. You mean my turn is over? I have to take off the mask? Boo hoo, just as I was about to chat with Cleopatra about make up tips. Yep, I think Grammy definitely needs her own headset.

When it’s my turn again I’m going to hang out with Winston Churchill. I sure hope you can’t smell his damn cigars.