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?
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