A Mohawk was a Native American — not a haircut.
Washing machines had hand-operated wringers through which you fed wet laundry to squeeze out excess water before hanging it on clothes lines in the back yard.
No dryers. No dishwashers. No microwave ovens.
Phones never left home, or even roamed from room to room. They had wires that permanently anchored them to walls, and they had dials instead of buttons. We had no iPhones, iPads, iPods, or iTunes.
I remember fountain pens, lovely Palmer penmanship, good spelling (do U?).
I also remember melodic melodies and non-X-rated lyrics you could actually listen to without blushing. (Yes, I remember blushing.)
Women were never “pregnant.” They were “in the family way,” or “with child,” or maybe “had a bun in the oven.” And they wore loose-fitting maternity clothes. Baby bumps and bellies were hidden, not accentuated.
Come to think of it, I remember married parents, virgin brides, and no sex scenes in movies or television. I even remember no television, TV dinners or frozen dinners of any kind, and no McDonald’s. Yes, families actually sat down together at home to eat meals that Mom cooked.
We never had to struggle to learn how to fold a fitted sheet, because we never had fitted sheets.
You could buy a house for about one-third the price of today’s car; and you could buy a do-it-yourself home permanent for about a dollar. Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave the house for at least a month after doing-it-yourself for fear of frightening dogs and small children.
We had ice boxes instead of refrigerators. The ice man delivered a block of whatever size indicated on a card you displayed in your window.
The only gyms were in schools, and we girls had to wear hideous middy blouses and baggy “bloomers” (which we wore over our under-bloomers; no bikini panties and certainly no thongs). Our gym shoes were Keds, which we also wore for playing, running, hiking, climbing — no special footwear for each athletic activity. When it snowed we had no stylish boots. We wore “overshoes” — rubber galoshes that fit over our Keds, penny loafers, saddle shoes, or even our high heels.
Our clothes never fit like second skin and never displayed navels, nipples or even knees; and our bathing suits actually covered body parts that used to be considered unsuitable for public view.
I also remember “buck teeth” or overbites, which were prevalent because most family budgets could not accommodate orthodontists and braces.
I even remember when I wasn’t such a bore, constantly telling everyone about everything I remember.
©2013 Rose Madeline Mula for SeniorWomen.com
Photograph by Evert F. Baumgardner: Family watching television, c. 1958. National Archives and Records Administration.
Editor's Note:
Rose's new book, Grandmother Goose: Rhymes for a Second Childhood, is a collection of humorous, seniors-related poems which explore a range of subjects — including coping with the computer age, discrimination against older drivers, and changing fashions (“As hemlines rise and necklines dip, it really is a riddle — if this trend continues, will they meet in the middle?”) We all will grow old — if we’re lucky. If we’re luckier still, we’ll be able to laugh about it.
Grandmother Goose helps us do just that and is available at Amazon.
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