I caught myself last week with family saying ” when we were that age” and it got me thinking. I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on how hard I had it and how easy they’ve got it these days. But a trip down memory lane before I have to take my “Geritol”
There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter – with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way up to the mailbox and put it in or ask Dad to drop it off at the Post Office when he went and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents!
Child Protective Services didn’t care if our parents spanked us. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission to kick our ass! Nowhere was safe! Sassing Mrs. Fugleberg would get a worse whopping.
If you wanted to listen to music, you had to ride your bike to the record store
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car… We’d play our favorite tape and “eject” it when finished, and then the tape would come undone rendering it useless. Cause, hey, that’s how we rolled, Baby! Dig?
There weren’t any cell phones either. If you left the house, you just didn’t make a damn call or receive one. You actually had to be out of touch with your “friends”. OMG !!! Think of the horror… not being in touch with someone 24/7!!! And then there’s TEXTING. Yeah, right!
Caller ID REALLY? When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your parents, your aunt edna, the bully from the top of the street, the collection agent… you just didn’t know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!
You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to get off your ass and walk over to the TV to change the channel!!! NO REMOTES!!!
And our parents told us to stay outside and play… all day long. Oh, no, no electronics to soothe and comfort. And if you came back inside… you were doing chores!
And car seats – oh, please! Mom threw you in the back seat and you hung on. If you were lucky, you got the “safety arm” across the chest at the last moment if she had to stop suddenly, and if your head hit the dashboard, well that was your fault for calling “shot gun” in the first place!