I have decided I miss the 60s with the exception of Viet Nam. I miss love beads, long hair on guys, the bell bottom jeans, and just the general acceptance we had for one another.
I miss the music, attending concerts with affordable ticket prices, I really miss ELVIS, and being a teeny bopper.
I think it was rather nice when we tried to find the best in each other, we didn't judge one another by the clothes we wore, the car we drove, what our parents did for a living, we pledged allegiance to the flag every morning and the Ten Commandments could be found in all public buildings.
When I went to college in the early 70s we were there because we had a desire to pursue an education, not because Mom and Dad could afford to put us there. We were encouraged to stand for something, even though we were very relaxed in our view of life in general the overall feeling was that we did care. We cared about our soldiers, we cared about our neighbors, we cared for what was happening to our communities, we just plain ole cared.
I am glad I lived through the 60s era, I wore my hair long, drove with my windows down playing music that the words could be understood, filling my car up with gas for $3 and we were taught respect.
I can tell you where I was when John F. Kennedy was killed as well as Bobby Kennedy. One of my mother's favorite phrases was "don't slam the door" which she meant was the screen door because we didn't have air conditioning.
Laying in the bed at night I took great comfort from the sound of crickets because in my mind it meant all was well for the night and there were no monsters lurking outside the door.
Sundays were spent at church, then off to Grandmama's house to eat dinner and usually spent the afternoon playing croquet. Can you even buy one of those croquet sets any more?
In all of our progress we have lost a great deal, I am just thankful I was there to see the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, Roy Rogers ride in to save the girl, Doris Day and Rock Hudson make comedies together, and knew everything would always end up right on the Cartwright ranch in Bonanza.
We weren't allowed to watch Jack Benny because my grandmother thought he was too gruff or his inuendoes just didn't suit her idea of suitable television watching. I can only imagine what she would think about what we have to guard our children from watching now.
But then again, we only had three channels on the television and someone was usually appointed every night to go out and turn the antennae until the picture was just right.
The sixties, they were good years. If there hadn't been a war raging in Viet Nam they would have been just about perfect.