Proud of my era
My Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread
mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife
and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning.
My Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter AND
I used to eat it raw sometimes, too. Our school sandwiches
were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in
ice pack coolers, but I can't remember getting E.coli.
Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the
lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring)--no beach
closures then.
The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a
jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system.
We all took gym, not PE...and risked permanent injury with
a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having
cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and
built-in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they
must have happened, because they tell us how much safer
we are now.
Flunking gym was not an option...even for stupid kids!
I guess PE must be much harder than gym.

Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the
national anthem, and staying in detention after school
caught all sorts of negative attention.
We must have had horribly damaged psyches. What an
archaic health system we had then.
Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat and everything.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something
before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers,
Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.
And now this iPod thing. It can hold thousands of songs.
Problem is, there isn't one song popular today that I care to listen to.
Oh yeah, and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit
when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed!
We played 'king of the hill' on piles of gravel left on vacant
construction sites, and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the
48-cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it
didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked. 
Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day
dose of a $79 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mom calls the
attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious
pile of gravel where it was such a threat.
We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either because if we
did, we got our butt spanked there and then we got butt
spanked again when we got home.
I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and
doing his tricks on the front stoop, just before he fell off. Little did
his Mom know that sh e could have owned our house. Instead,
she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof.  
It was a neighborhood run amuck.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told
that they were from a dysfunctional family. How could we
possibly have known that? We needed to get into group
therapy and anger management classes? We were obviously
so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice
that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac! How did we ever


 submitted by Joyce Pearce