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Fogey's Memories
If you're from my generation -- hang in there!
If you're not, you might have missed a few things:
 
I remember homemade toys.
I remember peeling tomatoes.
I remember snacking IN the garden.
 
I remember school desks with inkwells.
I remember when gentlemen held doors for ladies.
I remember when men caught fish & women cleaned them.
 
I remember playing baseball.
I remember neighbors who played baseball.
I remember when baseball was a game,
not an investment for the pompous.
 
I remember when it was legal to hand-out Bibles on campus.
I remember girls who were beautiful, all the way through.
I remember when prayers, not weapons were in school.
 
I remember the wondrous things in our scrap-iron pile.
I remember trapping gophers for comic-book money.
I remember long conversations with animals.
 
I remember CREAM & sugar on cereal.
I remember rhubarb upside-down cake.
I remember canning peaches.
 
 
I remember the smell of cut hay.
I remember the smell of lumber.
I remember the smell of death.
 
 
I've seen people die for their flag.
I've seen people die for small freedoms.
I've seen men salute as the flag went by.
 
Our house contained love, caring, hotdish, home-made rolls & jam.
 
In our house, Mom was the nurse & Dad was the law.
In our house, we were all students and teachers.
In our house, we all attended supper.
 
In our house, the gift of food wasn't wasted.
Nor was the importance of decency.
In our house, we either spoke politely or not at all.
 
In our house, the rewards and punishments were
simple enough for a child to understand,
and real enough to remember.
 
In our house we obeyed our parents,
not from fear of punishment
but for fear of disappointing them.
 
Our neighbors were forgiving & understanding,
because we all needed each other.
Neighbors even prayed for neighbors.
I remember cars with trunks.
I mean real trunks.
Tall enough for cream cans.
I remember when cars looked distinct.
I remember tailfins, bullet lights and chrome.
Not cloned plastic bubbles.
I remember the first Thunderbird.
I remember going 120.
I remember losing my hat.
 
I remember losing my way.
I remember losing my values.
I remember losing my direction.
I remember being hopelessly lost,
thoroughly confused and desparate.
I remember hurting,
and being scared
and crying.
Only memories guided me back.

I remember years of playing by myself.
I remember every one of the playground bullies.
Only the certainty of my Creator's judgement
prevents me from naming them right here.

 

Okay, enough old times -- let's have some fun!

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