out of the mouths of babes…
so today, my very good and long time friends, respectfully and affectionately referred to as “ms. parker and toots” sent a reminder today of my childhood, this email was in the form of a list of things you’d certainly remember if you were a child in the same age we were…this of course sent me on a bittersweet treasure hunt as i have just put my 11 year olds down for bed…this evening they were watching the news and a documentary i’d recorded on jim jones last night…i wondered if the imagery was too much for them, but as hear the news in the background i can clearly see in my mind that what we had to deal with at their age is romper-room compared to the age they live in — we didn’t have the worries they do now…my child brought home a school mobile which was titled “i have a dream” without looking at it first i assumed “was this for black history month” surely thinking it was about MLK — it was as follows:
for my community: i have a dream that everyone in my community would stop littering so all the animals wouldn’t choke on soda tops and other things. so the community looks nicer and better for everyone who lives there.
for my country: i have a dream that the war in iraq will end. that the people going out to serve our country would stop dying. that they could come home to be with their families.
for my world: i have a dream that people everywhere would start walking, riding bikes, carpooling to work and school. that people would listen to scientists when they say that the ice caps are melting. that the government would do something about global warming.
my little bleeding-heart it the making, and he doesn’t even realize it…when i hugged him teary-eyed at his blatant innocence shattering at the tender age of 11 and called him my “little liberal” he first asked “whats a liberal?” and i said “its a political leaning drew – much like your views you stated here”
puzzled, he quickly retorted “mom, politics doesn’t have anything to do with it”
out of the mouths of babes…
i leave you with this little anecdote i found on the web:
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand – or are discovering it as we speak. We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were just building blocks and gave Malibu Barbie crewcuts with safety scissors that never really cut.
We collected Garbage Pail Kids and Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies and Hot Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought She-Ra looked just a little bit like I would when I was a woman. Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city. Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest. Your world was the backyard and it was all you needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove like Michael Jackson’s.
Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Stringsteen and The Bangles perfectly and have no idea why. We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We flip through T.V . stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster and what you talkin’ ’bout Willis? We hold strong affections for The Muppets and The Gummy Bears and why did they take the Smurfs off the air? After school specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, the Pokka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren’t the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated?
We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the Electric Company. Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn’t break and friendship pins went on shoes – preferably hightop Velcro Reebox – and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks and jean jackets and jams and charm necklaces and side pony tails and just tails. Rave was a girl’s best friend; braces with colored rubberbands made you cool.
The backdoor was always open and Mom served only red Kool-Aid to the neighborhood kids- never drank New Coke. Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was high heels and an apron; the Sit’n'Spin always made you dizzy but never made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons and Chinese Jump Ropes never failed to trip someone. In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or Spider Man or R2D2 and in your treehouse you were king.
In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot Vietnam and watched Tiananman’s Square on CNN and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the United States. We didn’t start the fire, Billy Joel.
In the Eighties, we redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us. We are the generation in between strife and facing strife and not turning our backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it’s that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children – the first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget: We are the children of the Eighties.
thats my word.
