I keep seeing all these reports on books written about people reveling their abusive childhood.
OK, I can do that.
So here it is.
Yes, I survived the 50s (also the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s….), but those are other books.
So all these folks who are saying how difficult their childhood was, think about this….
I grew up with the threat of a foreign country shooting missiles at me that would blow up the entire planet. So as a small kid I learned to get into the hallway of my school and lean up against the tile wall and squat down with my head in my hands.
What was that going to do against a nuclear attack?
The classrooms of the undiversified schools had rules. And the kids obeyed the rules. Women taught us by writing white chalk on blackboards. Report cards; sent home to be signed by our parents were returned to our teachers. We pledged allegiance to the flag every morning with our hands on our hearts and for recess, went out on the blacktop to play four square and tether-ball with our classmates, always looking up for that big bomb to come crashing down on us.
Bad haircuts, goofy high water pants and striped t-shirts did not increase our self-image. Our hero’s were cowboys and the big wars left over soldiers who always won after much stress and conflict and no violence.
Shoot, I didn’t have an eight inch black and white television in my room until I was ten. I could stay in my room and watch a president die to get out of class.
And the music was, less appealing than the flash, bam, and thank you mama of today. The scratchy tiny radio produced country western barn dance local yokel tunes and poor big band covers presented by goofy announcers filling the time, later to be called DJs. The first transistor radio was only AM and the size of a beer can.
Telephones had these long curly cords attached to a plastic dial that turned and it was attached to the wall. Even other people could talk on the line at the same time.
No one traveled by plane, only on two lane rough roads at speeds of 30 miles per hours.
AND NO REST STOPS! You just learn to “go” on the side of the road.
You see, life was tough on all of us, so don’t rush out and purchase these paperbacks of celebrities talking about their hard times.
Instead, buy my book.
It’s full of all kinds of exciting secrets that corrupted the youth of America and created the powerful politician, military leader, educational instructor, technology wizard, and some other folks who I forget.
And yes, the 50s were rough, but I survived.
For a price I’ll tell you all about it. What do you say?