EDITOR’S NOTE
I’ll Take Today, Thank You
The trend of idealizing the good old days got me thinking about my good old days. I’m 65, so I’m old enough to have some.
Summer backdrops my strongest recollections. I’m not sure what I was doing the other nine months—probably watching hours of unsupervised TV (remember, it was the ‘60s)—but all the memory-making action happened when the weather was warm and daylight stretched long into the evening.
It’s been decades since I drank water from a garden hose, but we used to do it all the time. Hose water was my primary source of summer hydration because it was handy and none of us wanted to waste time (or the threat of chores) by going inside. I’m not a big fan of water today, even with a kitchen faucet and endless ice cubes. I’m playing amateur psychologist here, but the triggering memory of rubber hose/metal sprayer taste may have something to do with my aversion.
We All Scream
My husband recently brought home a box of Drumstick Sundae Cones. I hadn’t had one in years and expectations were high. As the oldest of four kids, individually wrapped frozen treats were reserved for rich kids or only children, based on my experience.
Stretching into the early ‘70s, our Sunday night sundae blowout consisted of a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream, a can of Hershey’s syrup and Spanish peanuts before settling down to an invigorating and sometimes violent episode of “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” followed by “The Wonderful World of Disney.” To say I was pumped about the Drumsticks is an understatement.
Call me spoiled, or just call me an adult, but the Drumsticks were underwhelming. We finished the box in two days, but I was slightly disappointed with each bite.
Chef Boyardee Pizza Kits likely fall into the Drumstick category. The kits were reserved for sleepovers, and I loved them. Until high school, my pizza experience was limited to those Chef Boyardee kits. It probably wouldn’t hold up to the pizza I eat today, but I’m game to try a box and see. I’ll keep you posted.
Another example of something that wasn’t actually better in the good old days: 4th of July fireworks. Our family never saw fireworks from closer than five or six miles away (if that close) because Dad said the traffic would be too crazy, and besides, we could see plenty from an off-site parking lot where the ground show displays teased us with their booms. Trust me, I’d tell 1960s and ‘70s Marie, fireworks are much more thrilling up close.
Other summer things that are better now than when I was a kid:
My skin. Sunscreen was available in the ‘70s, but I never saw anyone use it, and I have the skin damage to prove it.
Free things to do. Other than swimming in the spillway at Hinckley Lake (now part of Cleveland Metroparks), I don’t recall any free places to go or things to do in the summer, except for our yearly vacation or a week at a family cabin.
Road trips. When we drove cross-country to visit my aunt in Phoenix, our red Rambler station wagon didn’t have air conditioning. Today, I wouldn’t run to the bank without it. And while AAA still makes TripTiks, I’ll take my iPhone with Google Maps any day.
Our summer Thrive issue celebrates all that is great about this special season. You’ll find travel tips, fun things to do, off-beat events and more. There’s no reason to stay home unless, of course, that’s your idea of a perfect summer.
Here’s to a summer that reminds you of your childhood, minus the blistering sunburns and hot cars. I hope you see fireworks up close, eat truly great ice cream and enjoy a cold glass of tap water from the kitchen sink.
I’ll leave the garden hose for watering plants. I know too much now; something I didn’t have in the good old days.
~Marie
