Sunday, December 16, 2012
Hot tub time machine -year 1972
They seem to like my cooking and do not mind my birds finding their way on to their shoulders for attention and a place to poop.
I made a pea-nutty Asian noodle soup, stir fried broccolini with raisins along with veggie egg-rolls. Dinner was topped off with a holiday favorite-the "Friendly" jubilee ice cream roll.
We exchanged gifts, watched a movie and as a bonus for our entertainment pleasure my cousin dug out her diary she kept from 1972 to share.
We were then transported in a hilarious time machine back to 1972.
The journal was remarkably honest, detailed (she meticulously wrote down even the price of things) and what was important to her at the time.
I was included in some of her writings as a partner in crime, literally.
We would climb up on the roof of the barn by the wooden slats she nailed up on the side. We would sneak her parents sangria and also shared our imbibements with her pet poodle as well. We delighted in scaring the crap out of the neighborhood kids. We walked everywhere embarking on some adventure.
Certainly, kids today don't do that. Everything today is an organized activity shuttled and closely monitored by helicopter parents.
There seems to be no sense of freedom or exploration or imagination for today's kids.
Probably the funniest parts of the journals were her interactions with her brothers. I won't get into details but ...oh my God...Seriously, I laughed so hard listening to these stories that I ended up looking like Tammy Faye Baker with my mascara running down my face.
What was interesting those as she is reading on I felt like something was reaching in the back of my head like digging around a forgotten dusty closet and finding an old wooden treasure box.
All those memories revived: TV shows, toys, stomping grounds, pets and friends.
And all those adventures.
I asked her if she remembered the day we decided to 'run away".
I think my uncle even dropped us off by the highway so we could 'run away".
I remember the weather as being as hot as hell (We spent the summers together). I remember lugging around (I think) a sleeping bag with a back-pack full of cans of beans (Mind you, I forgot to pack a can opener) It weighed a friggin' ton. We got tired and grouchy probably within 10 minutes of walking in the blazing sun and decided we had enough of this running away business.
I'm not sure what year this was but I am guessing around 1972.