Haiku, via Fiona, through James – one which is doing the rounds at the moment:

Someone asked me the other day, ‘What was your favourite ‘fast food’ when you were growing up?’

‘We didn’t have fast food when I was growing up,’ I informed him. ‘All the food was slow.’

‘C’mon, seriously. Where did you eat?’

‘It was a place called “home”, I explained. ‘Mum cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining room table, and if I didn’t like what she put on my plate, I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.’

By this time, the lad was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn’t tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table.

But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I’d figured his system could have handled it:

# Some parents NEVER owned their own house, or wore jeans, set foot on a golf course, travelled out of the country or had a credit card.

# My parents never drove me to school. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, (slow).

# We didn’t have a television in our house until I was 10.

# It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at 10 pm, after playing the national anthem and epilogue; it came back on the air at about 6 a..m. and there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people…

# I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn’t know weren’t already using the line…

# Pizzas were not delivered to our home… But milk was.

# All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers –My brother delivered a newspaper, seven days a week. He had to get up at 6AM every morning.

# Film stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the films. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or almost anything offensive.

# If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren. Just don’t blame me if they bust a gut laughing.

Growing up isn’t what it used to be, is it?

One Response to “Memories”

  1. BobG July 27, 2012 at 15:31 Permalink

    Sounds familiar to me.

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