Just saying "9/11", conjures up all kinds of horrible images. I used to think of 2001 only as Stanley Kubrick's "A Space Odyssey". As a matter of fact, I viewed that date as so very far into the future that things had to be so much better.
It wasn't so.
Sadly, it's still an unsafe world.
Things seemed so much easier and safer years ago. Maybe that's just my naiveté, but it feels like our innocence is lost. Or maybe its knowledge found.
I remember that the world was focused on the Space Race. I was caught up in it too. We were glued to the television watching rocket launches and orbits by the brave men who took a calculated chance they'd make it back in one piece to do it all over again.
"One giant leap......."
I remember, as a sophomore in high school, sitting cross legged on the floor on front of the TV, hearing Walter Cronkite drone on while Neil Armstrong bounced around on a surreal landscape. My Grandmother mumbling in the background her disbelief of the whole thing and that it was just "movie magic". She was the first person that spoke of a "conspiracy" on the moon landing. Looking back, I think that her doubting Thomas ideas stemmed from the Kennedy assassination and the potential cover up of that whole mess. It kind of left us with a jaded view of the world.
But for me the grandeur was still there!
As a seventeen year old, being influenced by the nightly news of atrocities in Vietnam and potential cold war aggression, the idea of a man on the moon was now a credible thing!
I wanted to become part of what was currently happening. I had begged my Mom to let me go to the Beatles concert in 1965. No! Even my Grandmother weighed in on that. All I could do was listen to them on the radio. Woodstock was in August of 1969. There was no way I could have managed to go to that. So, I made do.
Wearing my Poor Boy sweater, hip hugger skirt, go go boots with my fishnet hose, I thought I was the absolute in fashionable!! I had to save for a couple months to buy those boots. My Mom thought they were "ridiculous", even though they hurt my feet, I'd never admit that to her!
I tried to keep my long wavy hair straight. Nope! I tried sleeping on stupid brain damaging torture devices known as rollers. Nope! Louisiana is too humid. So, a pony tail it was for most of the time.
These were the ones my Mom had. My sister and I sometimes used soup cans. Still didn't work, so we ironed it. Sounds harsh, but it got the job done. I wish we had the foresight to put that rudimentary technology together with an electric hand held device. We'd have been wealthy. Who knew?
The other, solely female, thing was what we had to put up with, when it was that time of the month. I swear a man had to invent a sanitary belt! I used to wish to I could have found him and forced him to wear it all day in Louisiana heat and humidity!!!! I have never had to deal with something so extremely uncomfortable.
I'm sure Torquemada invented this! Or maybe Atilla the Hun!!
Now, the fun part, wearing this with something the size of a newborn Pamper. Ugh!
When I got to college, I noticed something fast. None of the girls my age wore especially fashionable stuff.
The "uniform" was bell bottomed well worn jeans, with patches, all the better, and a peasant shirt with JC sandals.
(leather flip flops with a big toe smaller leather piece)
Being not comparatively well endowed, I eschewed a bra. I left my hair down in the wavy mess it usually was. I did however, wear eye makeup. Mascara and liner. Nothing else.
Oh, and I did have an awesome shoulder bag made of leather and fringe. I loved that bag!
This one is similar.
So, we spent time studying and driving around. There wasn't much else to do. We listened to an 8 track of Hair & Jesus Christ Superstar till we knew the entire score.
We read stupid pretentious Rod Mckuen poems, existentialist Albert Campus, and Thoreau's essay on Civil Disobedience, because Avant garde was what the Literature Dept. was passing off as necessary to learn at that time. Yes, we should all know this, but come on, give the budding mind something else to work with. A little diversity in the curriculum would have been nice. I eventually read much of what I didn't even know existed back then.
That brings me to the chickens.
What, you say?
Well as you know, I read to them.
Sing and talk as well.
But,I figure if people talk to plants to get them tomorrow, then maybe reading to the chickens will get them to produce more.
Probably just me.......
Pepper and Nugget listening to my current reading of a Nook murder mystery.
These girls always seem disinterested. They try to get farther and farther way.
They are giving me a complex.
But black hens matter.
; )
1 comment:
Luv it❤️
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