Through time

 Wondering what to write about comes easily for me. All I have to do is remember a time between the 1930s and 1970s, and my mind opens up, spewing out words faster than a locomotive. I loved the years of Bonnie and Clyde and Al Capone, Ginger Rogers, and zoot suits. I can clearly see a café in Paris after the war, where a lonely woman mourned her losses. I can taste the cherry-red lips of a USO volunteer who danced with me for what seemed like hours, and ended up in her bed, holding each other close as memories flashed by us in their own way.

I close my eyes and see the 1950s, filled with hot rods and poodle skirts, drive-in movies where innocence was lost, and letter jackets worn by the girlfriends of jocks. I recall the cool kids with slicked-back hair and leather jackets, while the girls wore saddle shoes, pink sweaters, and carried pom-poms. Street racing, rumbles, switchblades, and soda fountains all come to mind.

The 1960s saw an increase in draft resistance, with some individuals burning their draft cards and many fleeing to Canada. The beginning of the hippie movement was marked by protests for peace and love, characterized by long hair and love beads. Incense and peppermint filled the air, and a concert drew thousands to a farm in upstate New York. The smell of Mary Jane—pot, reefer, whatever you called it—was around every corner. Acid with names like "brown barrel" and "green frog," along with other mind-altering drugs, transported you to places only you could experience.

The 1970s saw hard rock take the stage with bands like Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, the Rolling Stones, and Fleetwood Mac, among many others. The Beatles remained influential as members broke up, drifting further apart and pursuing solo careers that left songs forever embedded in my heart and soul. Late in that decade, something changed: affordable computers brought the world to your fingertips, allowing you to explore from a chair, rather than a van.

The 1980s lost my interest as boy bands and punk rockers filled the airwaves, while skateboard parks rose to prominence and nerds became popular. By the 1990s, I was a married man with a child, and I needed to make changes—mostly for the better. However, this left me struggling to fit into the role of a father, working a forty-hour week and carrying groceries from the family minivan, which replaced my Volkswagen camper.

The 2000s were chaotic years as towers fell and thousands were killed in yet another senseless war that sent many of our boys off to distant deserts, where blood was spilled, and some came home broken, facing demons they couldn't fight.

In these current years, filled with violence and hatred, with needless shootings claiming hundreds of lives and a sense of impending doom, I’m grateful for the simpler times I experienced growing up. I cherish my memories of the years before my birth and those leading up to now. I wish they would bring back zoot suits, jukeboxes playing 45s, and sharing a malt with your favorite girl. It doesn’t hurt to dream. 

Some of my years and events may not be exactly correct, but I think you'll remember those you lived in and maybe some you wished you had.

Mike, 2025