Posted on 07/14/2018 7:02:38 PM PDT by vannrox
I don’t know about that. I was decades later than the 50s but ran into a girl who could spot where people had their polio injections.
LSD... Worth the risk? - Filmstrip - 1968
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tNf1BEtZ2w
powerpoint slideshow without the power
I attended Osborn High School, on the east side of Detroit from 1974-1976 with many people that I went from kindergarten all the way to high school with. After my junior year, I moved with my mom and sister to northern Michigan, to the small town of Charlevoix. Talk about culture-shock! I went from Detroit high school racial unrest to a school with a graduating class of 146 in 1977.
I think both worlds existed side by side at that point.
ABC promoted every teenaged vice in the afternoons on “afterschool specials” and some programs gave more than a wink and a nod to the open relationship cocaine heavy seventies.
But we knew that “was not for us”/wouldn’t fly in our homes.
>>Apparently paying her dues, starting at the bottom, is too tedious or degrading.
these days if you are willing to be placed at the bottom that is where you will stay, they want people who will accept the job/not reject it and want something more
The only person I’m still in touch with from the 70s is my brother. And we still go to some of those same places every year.
Oh no, no pennies were ever flattened. These were spent at that little old candy store. :-)
I was lucky...I grew up having no long term friends because we moved around so much...then when my dad retired from the USN, I got to make some real life-long friends!
Which is pretty neat.
To think childhood and favorite toys. You favored Tonka trucks. My sister wanted a Chatty Cathy doll. My cousin wanted magic tricks. Me.. I wanted an oven range, refrigerator, and sink during the time we lived in the country (earliest childhood) There was a tall, broad full leafed tree under which I sat up ‘house’ and every flavored mud pie a young girl might make was formed and baked under the sun. There was never lack of imagination. :-) However, the same cannot be said about judgment, remembering time old eggs (rotten) were used in the pie. Barf city!
LOL Which is more?
Your wanting the years to fly by swiftly whereby you at last become an adult and participate in the ‘real’ world
>OR<
As a mature citizen, your wishing to relive those childhood years?
Growing to maturity back then was far more simple than doing so now. Life was slower and seemed much more stable. We felt secure, loved and cared for. No matter how unhappy we might be at any given time, we’d soon find something to lift our spirits in order that we might fly a little higher and proceed onto the next adventure.
If the 50’s do manage to make it round again, there are certain pleasures which must travel with us. Color television to name just one :-) Comparing b/w reception using rabbit ears hardly brings us to the standard of flat screen, color HDTV found today.
Not the 50’s or 60’s or 80’s. The article is the 1970’s.
The fashion started the decade has hippie flower child and long hair and a exited with Preppie and short hair. Education saw the adoption of look say reading and fuzzy math. The end of duck and cover. Authority was shredded. Smoking areas. Teachers were a mix of hardcore oldsters and counter cultural rebels. The start of the culture wars in the classroom.
“I remember every adult male being a perv.”
How are you defining “perv?”
As opposed to the convivial learning environment of earlier epochs?
Regards,
bmp
Well, yes, of course... I can imagine how being instructed by close blood-relatives in a one-room, log-cabin schoolhouse would indeed be quite a different experience than attending a modern, large-scale school with hundreds - maybe thousands - of pupils (which would perforce require more regimentation).
But why bother bringing up such comparisons? That's like saying that today's policemen aren't as friendly and understanding as when you were a kid - in your own tiny home town populated exclusively by relatives and close friends, where "Officer Uncle Fred" and "Officer Cousin Al" would let you go with a wink and a nod instead of writing you up for speeding.
A statement like yours is not generalizable, and thus does not contribute to the conversation.
Regards,
Michael Palin: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable.
Graham Chapman: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine, ay Gessiah?
Terry Jones: You're right there Obediah.
Eric Idle: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine?
MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.
GC: A cup ' COLD tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TJ: OR tea!
MP: In a filthy, cracked cup.
EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best WE could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
TJ: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
MP: Aye. BECAUSE we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, 'Money doesn't buy you happiness.'
EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had NOTHIN'. We used to live in this tiiiny old house, with greaaaaat big holes in the roof.
GC: House? You were lucky to have a HOUSE! We used to live in one room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of FALLING!
TJ: You were lucky to have a ROOM! *We* used to have to live in a corridor!
MP: Ohhhh we used to DREAM of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph.
EI: Well when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to US.
GC: We were evicted from *our* hole in the ground; we had to go and live in a lake!
TJ: You were lucky to have a LAKE! There were a hundred and sixty of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TJ: Aye.
MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out. When we got home, our Dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt!
GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were LUCKY!
TJ: Paradise!, we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and LICK the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our Dad would slice us in two with a bread knife.
EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, (pause for laughter), drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad and our mother would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing 'Hallelujah.' MP: But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe ya'. ALL: Nope, nope..
Congrats.
Unfortunately, one bad apple....
There are a certain small number of high schools and colleges that are hoarding those excellent people he is looking for. Find those schools and grab their grads.
Go to every city and ask employers which high school's kids would you hire for a summer job. Follow those kids.
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