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The dream-child moving through a land of wonders wild and new–Lewis Carroll I’ve been told that my generation was the last one who never saw the inside of a daycare. The word ‘daycare’ did not exist. Women stayed home or found someone to watch a small child. My father once told me that it was… Continue reading Long days with Mom

Who was trained not to spit in the fan? Well, all this talk about Nicki leads me to dogs. Our neighborhood had only a few. There was a nice boxer named Mack one block up who I’d occasionally visit if he was tied up in the backyard. Loved how he shook his groove thang when… Continue reading Dogs (Three Different Ones)

Thrown together……. Because my parents had formed a little clique with 3 other couples, my first friend was the only one near my age–the Bryant’s youngest daughter, Cathy, who was some months younger. There was no ‘puppy love’ here–just two kids knocking around, playing with toys or running in the field. I don’t really remember… Continue reading Friends together watch their childhood fly

Nature brings a boy in tune My parents bought me a swing set, mini sliding board, and a bizarre sled contraption in the backyard. The sled was a small open platform that your butt just barely fit; the wheels would lock into a metal track. So you’d lift this sled (weighing half as much as… Continue reading Let me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze….

First of a few diversions from the 60’s to other times…. My maternal Grandmother was the only grandparent in my life. While I knew her only as a bottomless fount of unconditional love, she was quite a strong woman. Physically, she kept a huge garden of multiple fruits and veggies (including a large vineyard) for… Continue reading Total Time Transfer: 1930’s

Just a place to hopelessly encounter time and Then Came Me! And so, the winter of ’57-58 has a new soul. I was born one mornin’ when the sun didn’t shine.I picked up my shovel and I crawled to the mine……. Ooop, sorry, wrong birth. In spite of not being a GYN, my godfather was… Continue reading Born Under a Bad Sign?

Put down those tiny roots! My guess is that my parents moved to the house in the mid fifties. I picture this classic 50’s era billboard in a cornfield with a Donna Reed-ish model touting ‘New Single Family Homes!!” “Quiet community, low traffic area!” “All white faces!!” “Dysfunctional?? We want YOU!!” Well, maybe the last… Continue reading Let’s Make A Nest

The parents! My parents came from the PA coal regions and met post-WWII working at a music store. He hauled and delivered pianos, she sold sheet music and could play piano and sing to hawk a song. He was the youngest of 5, born to the town drunk and his wife. His father beat his… Continue reading Meet Mom and Dad

I suppose my earliest memory should, by rights, be that of my father screaming violently at me or my mother. But, like so many of us 60’s brats, it just begins with brief blurry snapshots of what was and what it seemed to be. If not rose-colored lenses, then ones narrowly fixated on life’s highs… Continue reading But first: In the fifties……

Welcome to My Blog! This is a semi-humorous blog about growing up in the 1960’s–everything was changing, including me. I started it as a lost 3 year old and left it a lost 13 year old adrift in a sea of hormones and rock and roll music. Through it all was my clueless and abusive,… Continue reading Hi, I’m here!