Repost- of Days of innocence, generations to follow will never know. Praying for healing and awareness to bring us closer to our yesterdays. 9/11 😥

Hello I just dropped in from the 60’s!

And then one day we just stayed in bed, under the covers, eating mozzarella cheese and pretzels. A mental health day? Perhaps. A day of feeling sorry for our mess of a country moment, indeed. With so many things on our “to do” list the pathetic state of affairs has immobilized us. We try to rally by pooling our sorrows to comfort our souls. Devastatingly, in a crowd of millions we are back to fearing our health. With no obvious panacea, but mandates and time, we arrange comfort zone memories of watching reruns of Dobie Gillis, I Married Joan and I Love Lucy-with a Saint Bernard friendly Topper. We derive a sense of calm by exhuming memories of eating a can of Buitoni ravioli after school with a hostess anything chaser. We travel back to days when a big struggle was learning what a parallelogram or a quadrilateral was.

Ah, simple joys of listening to AM radio. Cousin Brucie spin us our favs. The times when one of our greatest pleasures was hearing the Temptations, as we were “not to proud to beg” while we waited to be built up by buttercups, knowing at this point it was the “worst that could happen.” Run on sentence counters, I know. Who remembers driving under the tressel , making your way through third ward park and looking to see which of our friends cars were parked there? How easily serotonin and endorphin rushes happened in the long ago and far away days, we so long for now. If only we were back to when busy signals offered the worst of frustrations. Or when setting our hair with pink plastic rollers and enduring the fumes of Aqua Net hairspray was one of our toughest endurances. Only if, our not so guilty pleasures were peanut cheddar crackers, Ring Dings or Funny Bones and a can of Tab, the acronym for the first (Totally Artificial Beverage). With lots of quarters, nickels and dimes we’d stop to get our after school snacks at the candy store next to Jan, Jill and Jon on Main Avenue. Shout out to Rhoda and Seymour Zucker (antique aficionados) for 50 years . What a run. Side bar, your Honor. Those were the times before rats were tested for lethal saccharine levels. Loved the rush from Tab and the sugar high from Dubble Bubble.
So we wait under the covers with bated breath as we watch our future decisions about when to go back into a movie theater and hope the seats we get are not the ones with chewed gum stuck underneath. We pray for the times we imagined that when Cosmo Topper, married Joan the only thing that was mandated was a fun- filled honeymoon to Bermuda and bringing your besties back a bottle of Chianti, Blue Nun or Thunderbird from the duty free shop. Hashtag Sad.