Does it sometimes feel strange raising kids when your own childhood memories date back as far as any modern grandmother’s?Blast From The Past
Does it sometimes feel strange raising kids when your own childhood memories date back as far as any modern grandmother’s?
Although my children are now 3 and 6 years old, my memories begin over 40 years ago. I’d like to celebrate the journey of growing up in the 1960s and 70s with some of the highlights and cultural milestones from that era.
Please feel welcome to add comments, or email me your own contributions to Blast From The Past.
As a courtesy to readers, all hyperlinks beneath each subject heading lead to more information or source references on that subject.
If you feel the overwhelming urge to “re-live the dream” and buy the book or DVD mentioned, just jump to the Flower Power Shop links at the end of each section.
The Flintstones (1960-1966)
The Flintstones The famous Flintstones were originally produced for an adult audience—in fact, so adult that Fred and Barney used to star in Winston cigarette commercials who were sponsors in the early days. That was until kids began to watch the show in droves and made it their own. It was the dawn of the realization in television and film makers that they were playing to two diverse crowds simultaneiously: kids and grown-ups. This awareness has made many kids shows and movies—especially Pixar animated films—fun for parents too. It consists of the clever trick of having adult humor innocently embedded in dialogue or situations meant for kids.
Playing to a double audience makes the difference between a franchise like Scooby-Doo, which is too repetitive and virtually intolerable for adult viewing, versus the unpredictable antics of a toddler and two hapless “guy” monsters in a film like Monsters Inc.
Fred Flintstone was the loveable male chauvinist, reminiscent of Jackie Gleason from The Honeymooners in the 1950s, and prototype for a personality type that still lives in America today. (The family joke is that I wear my hair like Wilma, but the resemblance stops there.)
Flower Power Shop: The Flintstones, Original Series; Monsters Inc., Movie DVD; Scooby Doo, Original TV Series; The Honeymooners, Original TV Series.
Lost in Space (1965-1968)
The B9 Robot
It’s really depressing that my 6-year-old son doesn’t understand the meat of the meaning, or simply “get the joke”, when I wave my arms around, snake-like, and holler “Danger…danger Will Robinson!”, just before my husband Frank is about to enter the room.
In fact, very few grown-ups under the age of 45 get it either.
Perhaps this is because Lost in Space was on what called my “Clockwork Orange” diet of TV viewing. (Meaning, that it was one of the programs I was forced, nearly hogtied to the chair, to watch because that’s what my older brother wanted to watch back in the days when there was only one TV per household.)
Frankly, the B9 Robot made the show. Sadly, the actor in the ‘bot suit, Bob May, died in May 2009.
Flower Power Shop: Lost In Space, Complete First Season, TV; A Clockwork Orange, Film.
Star Trek (1966-1969)
Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk
Between my sisters and I, the crux of the issue surrounding Star Trek always related to a matter of taste and preference: Who did you have the “hots” for—Mr. Spock (Leonard Nimoy) or Captain Kirk (William Shatner)?
Did you prefer passionate, oozing with testosterone, Jim Kirk who, not unlike a swaggering version of James Bond, always seemed to be hitting on some extraterrestrial chick? Or did you find the allure in aloof, cool and unattainable Mr. Spock?
I’ll never forget grabbing each other, squealing with titillated embarrassment when we saw episode #25, This Side of Paradise, for the first time. (Remember, we were kids!) On the planet Omicron Ceti III, Spock got nailed with some alien “spores” which freed up some emotional and manly urges. Lo and behold, there he was swinging from trees and having a steamy “love” encounter with a blonde botanist called Leila (Jill Ireland). That was some science experiment Mr. Spock. We were stuffing pillows in our mouths to keep from screaming at the kissing scenes. If you were under the age of ten, it the same impact as Love Story meeting Nine 1/2 Weeks for grown-up girlies.
Come to think of it, I wish we could have bottled a few of those “spores” for some future encounters of our own. [Give us your vote: Who was it for you? Mr. Spock or Captain Kirk?] For all of your Star Trek trivia needs, you can always visit the Official Star Trek Website. Flower Power Shop: Star Trek Original TV Series, 3 Seasons; Love Story, Film; Nine ½ Weeks, Film.
Land of the Giants (1968-1970)
I’m willing to hazard a guess that not many Flower Power Moms remember Land of the Giants, but I’m putting out there. I need a kindred spirit. The reason I’m doubtful is that it is on my “Clockwork Orange” TV viewing list—the one my big brother imposed on his younger siblings because it was one of his favorite programs and it only had a two-season run. The special effects for those days were kind of cool—crew members being picked up by giant thumb and forefingers—a lot like bedtime at our house. Flower Power Shop: Land of the Giants, Full TV Series
The Brady Bunch (1969-1974)
From the very first moment I saw The Brady Bunch, I wondered what planet they lived on. Even though I was roughly the same age as “Cindy” (Susan Olsen), they were nothing like my family.
For instance, when my big brother was flagrantly thwarting authority, I never heard my father say in a gentle, but firm, reprimand: “Now, Greg…”. In those situations, we simply prayed that he would be allowed to live.
And what was with Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, anyway? Every time I saw her face I was victimized by an overwhelming urge to yank her pigtails out of her head and stuff them up her nose.
Who did the producers think they were fooling? The public may have bought the Good Ship Lollipop Shirley Temple Cutsie Show back in the 1930s flicks, but those days were long gone by the time I hit ten.
I should have known that my unfinished karma would come back to haunt me. Lizzie turned 3 years old last fall and suddenly developed an irrefutable predilection for wearing Cindy-pigtails. And she would brook no denial.
As she skipped toward me one day for a mommy hug, her golden Cindy-tails bouncing around her ears, I was suddenly smote with the conflict in my heart.
My baby was the real thing: Innocent. Not Cindy Brady, a caricature.
I needed to cleanse my heart of its old poison. I must forgive Cindy.
Then one fine day, while researching online for this very website, I hit pay-dirt with a story that the real life Cindy (Susan Olsen) caused a public furor when she was so hung over she had to cut a radio interview to run off and puke.
Boy, oh, boy, that did the trick! You know what? I like her now.
Cindy grew up to be hung over enough to worship in the temple of Public Humiliation. My forgiveness is complete, Zen-like. Cindy was, after all, real.
Cindy Brady (Susan Olsen)
[include photo of “Lizzie”]
Flower Power Shop: The Brady Bunch—Original TV Series.
The Courtship of Eddie’s Father (1969-1972)
My Dad loved The Courtship of Eddie’s Father because Bill Bixby (Eddie’s father) was considered a handsome dude, a sensitive single father, and everyone said my Dad could have been Bixby’s twin brother.
And, man, we were on the same page there, because I sure wanted Bill Bixby to be my Dad. When the theme song played at the opening of the show, my heart would rise up, no matter how I felt in the preceding moments.
How is it that the shows of the 60’s and 70’s seemed to have maids, like Alice in Brady Bunch and Mrs. Livingston in Courtship? We never had a maid….
FlowerPower Shop: The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, Original Film with Glenn Ford.
The Partridge Family (1970-1974) and David Cassidy
David Cassidy
I was nine years old the year that the pilot episode of The Partridge Family aired. I spent that half hour grounded in my bedroom for some misdemeanor I can’t recall, listening to I Think I Love You through a crack in the door and salivating despite lack of visual stimulation.
When I finally got to see what David Cassidy looked like on the next episode, I was toast.
Back in the 70’s, if you were if you were a freshly minted member of the Training Bra Brigade, David Cassidy was nothing short of teenage catnip.
He seemed to glow onscreen like exotic and forbidden eye-candy that you would gladly suction out of the TV set with the sheer force of your mental teleportation powers. Then you could have your wicked way with him (which probably meant staring into his eyes, your chin cupped in your hands, as you sigh and whisper “Oh, David…I think I love you!”).
Well, we all had our dreams.
When he started doing live concerts, girls threw their underwear onstage.
After a long journey out of the Dark Ages of stigma during the 80’s, condemned as a has-been teenage heart throb, you can now find him at The Official David Cassidy Website for his latest gigs—and they’re still throwing panties at him.
You know what they say, David: “If the underwear fits…you can always wear it on your head.”
Flower Power Shop: The Partridge Family: Complete 1st Season, Complete 2nd Season, Complete 3rd Season Complete 4th Season; Partridge Family Greatest Hits CD: David Cassidy & The Partridge Family CD.
The Waltons (1972—1981) and Little House on the Prairie (1974—1983)
“Liv” has teeth after all…
I guess you could call it a “coming of age” when, one day in the early 1980’s, I opened a magazine to see a photo of “John-Boy”(Richard Thomas) smoking a cigarette with his hand wrapped around what appeared to be an alcoholic beverage.
Imagine that—John-Boy boozing and a-courtin’ lung cancer! It was like discovering there was no Santy Claus. (I wouldn’t have been surprised if his britches weren’t where they were supposed to be either.)
My lingering memories are of how miserable they all were—if you compared “Liv” (Michael Learned) to, say, “Caroline” (Karen Grassle) from Little House on the Prairie, you could see a real contrast.
She smiled so little, you were never sure if Liv had any teeth. Yet, you could tune your Valentine’s violin to the dulcet tones of Caroline sighing with pleasure…. “Oh, Charles!”
“Caroline” gushing at “Charles”
Flower Power Shop: The Waltons, The Complete Seasons 1-9; Little House on the Prairie—The Complete TV Series.
Planet of the Apes (1968)
Taylor (Charlton Heston) finds the statue of Liberty
It’s hard to describe to anyone these days how revolutionary, how awe-inspiring were the images of Planet of the Apes back in the late ‘60s. Civil rights issues that had been percolating nicely beneath the collective social unconsciousness were now exploding above it.
The first film was not only a bold stroke of genius, but a statement of the times.
But to kids, they were just movies.
I can remember a Saturday afternoon matinee with my sisters, gnawing on popcorn and Good ‘n’ Plenties, our feet up on the back of the empty seats in front of us, cheering for the chimpanzees. I think we almost fancied Roddy McDowall, even though he sounded like he was half way through a root canal.
Then there was Charlie Heston’s iconic moment when he discovers the statue of Liberty poking out of the sand and cries: “You blew it up! Ah, damn you!”
It took a moment or two to realize, he wasn’t really cursing the speechless lady. But, in hindsight, it does seem like she may have had much to answer for.
Flower Power Shop: Planet of the Apes Series, Films.
The Excorcist (1973)
I was just 13 years old (and raised a Roman Catholic) when The Exorcist debuted in cinemas across North America—not quite old enough to sustain the vagaries of a film known to “scare the hell out of you”.
But I still have a salient memory of being driven through the streets of downtown and peering through the car window at cinema line-ups that went around the block. People spoke in hushed whispers about The Exorcist.
The film had an ominous “taboo” presence and those who saw it returned home feeling disturbed. No surprise with all the talk about green pea soup puke.
The film has reportedly earned over four hundred million—the top grossing R-rated film of all time, with enough “scare” to keep the toilets of the world flushing for an indefinite period.
Many years later, I finally watched The Exorcist on television and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I was unable to sleep without the lights on for a long, long time.
Flower Power Shop: The Exorcist (The Version You’ve Never Seen)
Jaws (1975)
Say cheese…!
My most poignant memory of seeing Jaws for the first time during the afternoon matinee at the cinema were the terrified screams of an audience full of kids…followed by the peals hysterical laughter erupting from my ten-year-old little brother.
I was fourteen then. And he was fearless. The other kids were watching Jaws while he watched them, and I watched him.
Every time the shark lunged out of the water, there was a communal shriek from the crowd as they ducked for cover behind the seats in front. Upon seeing shreds of human skin and flesh dangling from its teeth, I relinquished all pretense of poise and handed my brother a half eaten Eatmore bar.
He chowed down on it with gusto.
That was the day, as some kids actually broke down and cried or rushed out of the cinema, I wondered if my kid brother might be a tad shy of “normal”.
Flower Power Shop: Jaws (The 30th Anniversary Edition)
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
Tim Curry as Dr. Frank-N-Furter
The Rocky Horror Picture Show was an occasion of “firsts” for me at the tender age of 14.
It was the first time I ever saw a guy in drag; the first time I saw audiences dress like the characters and dance in the aisles; and the first time I saw blatant sexuality pouring off the screen.
I loved dancing to Time Warp. But I was not a fan who bragged about seeing the film for the twenty-seventh time (although many did), nor did I dress up like Magenta at Halloween parties for the next few years.
But, over the years, I’ve always been grateful to have “been there” when Susan Sarandon had her breakthrough role. And, I’ve never been able to see Tim Curry without my brain taking a “jump to the left” and seeing Frank-N-Furter’s
suspenders.
Flower Power Shop: The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Original Film; 1975 Film Soundtrack on CD.
Star Wars (1977)
David Prowse as Darth Vader in Star Wars
Well I don’t know about anyone else, but I thought Princess Leia in the original 1977 Star Wars movie looked like she had two cinnamon Danish rolls stuck to her head.
Princess “Cinnamon Bun”
Ironically, back then, the storm troopers looked ominous and threatening like a bleached version of Hitler’s SS. Now they look like bottled milk, and just about as scary. And the dozy walk they have looks like they’ve been hitting the-bottle-of-the-other-kind.
Little did I know, years later during the 1980’s in Britain, I would be doing a Public Relations campaign with David Prowse, the guy who wore the Darth Vader costume in the movie (but not the voice). I remembered his humor and earthy style.
In
March 2009, it was announced that Prowse had prostate cancer. I pray for your victory against the real dark side, David, and may the force
of healing be with you always.
Flower Power Shop: Original Star Wars Trilogy with Harrison Ford; Star Wars Prequel Trilogy.
Star Trek, The Motion Picture (1979)
So Where’s Bones and Spock?
I was eighteen years old when this much anticipated film leapt off the screen. Stuffing my face with red licorice twists, regressing to being a kid again, I remember the intense group hunger of the audience to see their heroes—Captain Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov and Uhura—together again.
When Star Trek, The Motion Picture hit the cinemas, nobody cared if the pace was painful or the plot corny. We were there for the reunion, the repartee and quips between the crew.
I half to admit that I missed the old uniforms—the “creations” designed for the motion picture looked like back catalogue waiter’s apparel.
More importantly, it was the birth of the Star Trek movie franchise.
Flower Power Shop: Star Trek, Original Motion Picture Collection.
E.T., The Extraterrestrial (1982)
ET—The Extraterrestrial
Jokes about ET “phoning home” would not go silent for years after the airing of the Steven Spielberg blockbuster ET—The Extraterrestrial in 1982.
Most memorable for me was the debut of Drew Barrymore whose facial features seemed to change little as she grew up into a “big girl”, she was still recognizable as the little sister.
Frankly, they lost me when the bicycle took flight and superimposed on the moon in the night sky like a parody of a Halloween witch. Enough corn there to make a corn dog.
Flower Power Shop: ET—The Extraterrestrial.
Back
The Jackson Five/Michael Jackson (circa 1966—2009)
The text below was written a week before the death of Michael Jackson. I’ve chosen to leave it as it was, except to say that when he died—and given Michael was only a year and a half older than me—I felt my mortality keenly, along with the loss of a little boy with whom I grew up.
Now believe what you like, but the Michael Jackson I grew up with is not the Michael Jackson of today who could successfully compete for the cover of Vogue Magazine, dub a Marilyn Monroe voice-over, or preside as the beatific Monarch in the Land of Hermaphrodites.
Michael Jackson of the past
Michael Jackson: the completed work
When I was a kid, I was hanging out in my living room, playing ’45 records, and dancing to the tune of Michael singing “ABC” with his brothers, released in 1970.
Now I wonder if Michael got the alphabet of life the wrong way around. You grow older, not younger and become wiser, not increasingly ingenuous.
It made him vulnerable to attack.
Having said this, the media savaging he received over the Neverland “sleepovers” was painful to witness. An understanding of his childhood begs the question: How could he have ever absorbed the parameters of what the status quo deems “normal”?
As a man of strangeness for some, or uniqueness for others, in his beauty he can be likened to an inverse “Elephant Man” and as such, left to reside in peace in his rarified universe of one.
Update 23rd July 09: Sadly, this previous entry was closer to prediction that I knew at the time of writing. One can only believe that his peace is greater upon quitting this world. I am reminded of the 1972 song “Vincent” (also known as “Starry, starry night”) written by Californian musician Don McLean as a tribute to 19th century Dutch artist Vincent Van Gogh, who also died tragically. I’ll close with some of its lyrics, but hearing is better:
And now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity;
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen;
They did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.
Flower Power Shop: MJ products will not be listed here at this time; The Elephant Man, Film, John Hurt; Vincent, The Best of Don McLean CD.
The Osmonds/Donny Osmond (circa 1960’s—present)
Young Donny Osmond In the 1960’s, The Osmonds rocked the world of little pre-adolescent girls all across America when they appeared as regulars on The Andy Williams Show. And, it is to them the bronzed Training Bra Brigade Trophy for Best Crush 1972 must be awarded. I was 11 years old that year when they released Puppy Love. That was the song responsible for packing stadiums full of estrogen-crazed teenage screamers, armed with training bras and prepared to kill for a front row seat. Now, nearly 50, here I am: going public. Yes, I’m going to announce to the whole world that I did…yes, I did…write (now out with it!)…a….fan….letter…to…Donny Osmond. But one, and only one. (Fan letter, that is.) When, after three agonizing weeks, I actually got a reply in the mail asking for club membership fees, I realized that Donny got about as close to his fan mail as a priest to a crack house. My Donny. I would just have to practice kissing the Donny poster on my bedroom wall until someone new came along. (Like Robert Plant.) Hey Donny, if you’re out there, can you read my fan mail, just this once? (After all, it’s only been about thirty-five years.) Here is my second (and last, really this time) fan letter to Donny Osmond:
Dear Donny:
Well, the poster on my bedroom wall is gone now (having shredded and melted into the plaster like paper mache some three and a half decades ago), but you know what? You’ve aged really well. Like fine wine.
A few months ago I saw that interview you did for Biography TV and I was really glad that Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat saved you from being branded for life as a once pubescent pop star now just getting wrinkly with middle age, although no need for porcelain veneers for you, are there Donny?
I want you to know I understand that once being a child pop star performing on a million drool-encrusted television sets across North America must have been a hard cross to bear later in life.
But you turned out well. You appear to be a handsome and sensitive man, so I must have known something back in the 1970’s. These days, for all my pinups, I just go to your website.
I’ll even forgive you for performing with your sister Marie again (but it better not be “Paper Roses”, or I’ll scream and it won’t be joyful this time) in Las Vegas this year because, you see, it really was just “puppy love” after all.
Happy Trails, Donny!
PS. What’s happening with your big brothers anyway? That Osmond Family website just has my ears ringing and dinging…too many angels getting their wings, man! Flower Power Shop: The Best of Donny Osmond, CD; Biography TV, The Osmonds; Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat Soundtrack; The Best of Donny & Marie TV Show, DVD.
Supertramp (circa 1969—present)
Crime of the Century When Crime of the Century released in 1974, I knew I had found “my sound”. The moment I heard “Dreamer” and its crystal clear keyboard opening riffs, a fan was born. It was the treasured theme song of my fifteenth year—the one I laid in bed listening to as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom and there painted the blank canvas of my future with the brushstrokes of my imagination. Supertramp released a total of 6 albums in the 1970’s—you could say they characterized the music of the decade. Even In The Quietest Moments and Breakfast In America were all albums in my collection. Not fond of crowds, Supertramp was of the few bands I ever saw perform live in a sports stadium. In 2005, they released their anthology Retrospectacle, 35 years after their debut album. Far out boys!—What a day, a year, a ’life’ it is!
Retrospectacle Flower Power Shop: Indelibly Stamped; Crime of the Century; Crisis? What Crisis?; Even In The Quietest Moments; Breakfast In America; Paris; Famous Last Words; Brother Where You Bound; Free As A Bird; Some Things Never Change; It Was The Best Of Times; Slow Motion; Retrospectacle.
Alice Cooper (circa 1972—present)
The 1970’s also brought the winds of change in the pop music phenomenon, along with the evolving tastes of my eldest brother and sisters.
In 1972, my eldest sister brought home Alice Cooper—or at least his essence. It was a coming of age.
The trip from Donny Osmond to Alice Cooper—zero to one hundred—occurred overnight. The first time I heard “School’s Out” (a song about “the last three minutes of the last day of school”) and “Eighteen” from the School’s Out album, I knew we had all just jumped aboard the rage-filled hormone rollercoaster ride of youth.
With Alice Cooper who, “literally invented the concept of the rock concert as theatre”, the door of innocence was closing behind us.
I can remember watching my sister dress for her first Alice Cooper concert when she was only fifteen (under the pretense of spending the evening at a girlfriend’s house). She wore powder blue elephant pants (bell bottoms were considered juvenile by the mid-seventies) flowing with material the breadth of bed sheets.
And then, of course, she wore the customary painted-on black eyes…I always wondered why they didn’t go for a more “natural” look.
Flower Power Shop: Killer; Love It To Death; School’s Out
Queen (circa 1970—1991)
A Night At The Opera
Queen’s most famous song has to be Bohemian Rhapsody, from the A Night At The Opera album. Released in 1975, it became the operatic rendition of teenage (Greek) tragedy of my generation.
Any kid worth their salt knew every word and was helplessly victimized by a reflexive urge to head bop and sing along—ala Wayne’s World—every time it was played in concert or in a shopping mall record store.
I swallowed and took it on the chin when the news got out that Freddie Mercury was gay. Then, in 2008, 17 years after his death, we learn that he was only “metrosexual”.
(And,yes, Freddie, thanks to you, I could laugh at all of those boys who were more in love with their cars than me.)
Flower Power Shop: A Night At The Opera; A Day At The Races; News of the World
Elton John (circa 1973—present)
Cover of Yellow Brick Road
Goodbye Yellowbrick Road was the album that marked my teenage years like no other. It was life-defining. It went to a deeper level, steeped with bittersweet meaning.
In 1973, the myth of Marilyn Munroe and her mysteriously tragic death in 1962 still enthralled the world with a profound, nostalgic allure.
Marilyn Monroe
Candle In the Wind was the unique and tender ballad that captured the hearts of millions who had, hitherto, been unable to articulate what they felt about Marilyn.
Seven years later, my sister was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease and died within three years, at the age of 23. When I listen to Candle In the Wind, a window in my heart is opened, and for a brief moment I am able to grieve.
And then, in 1997, Elton changed the words and performed it in tribute to Princess Diana. Now, I can barely listen to it at all without needing to lie down embracing a box of tissues.
Princess Diana
Songs from this album continued to play in the living rooms, cars, parties and bars of youth for years after its launch. The songs of Yellow Brick Road are ephemeral.
In 2008, when Bennie and the Jets was mimicked in a bar-top dancing scene featuring Katherine Heigl and James Marsden from the movie 27 Dresses, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I
wondered if they knew what they were doing.
It had been thirty-five years since “Bennie” had first galvanized the airwaves—a time when women were getting Afro-perms. And yet, they danced as if it had just leapt off the page of Bernie Taupin’s magical pen and found a home in Elton John’s signature voice.
Flower Power Shop: Goodbye Yellowbrick Road; Tumbleweed Connection; Honky Chateau; Elton John Greatest Hits, 1970-2002; 27 Dresses, Film.
Apollo 11—One Giant Leap For Mankind (21st July 1969)
Astronauts Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin
I was eight years old when Armstrong, et.al., landed on the “big and bright and beautiful” moon.
At that age, it was as surreal and distant as the Vietnam War. It was happening on distant shores, for reasons I could not comprehend.
Apollo 11, launched 16 July 1969
Retrospectively, it symbolized the tender idealism put forth and fostered by President John Kennedy put forth in his speech on May 25th, 1961. Whenever I see that speech I feel that he died for something after all.
The Apollo 11 landing was at the heart of the American Dream, our faith in reaching out “to infinity and beyond”.
In 2004, NASA dedicated a website to the historical launch, One Giant Leap For Mankind—The 35th Anniversary of Apollo 11.
Flower Power Shop: Journey to the Moon: The 40th Anniversary of Apollo 11, DVD.
Good Morning Vietnam! (1959—1975)
It seemed to me the Vietnam War was fought on the stage of our living room with live footage piped in through our televisions whether we wanted it or not.
In those innocent days of the dawn of the TV era, parental discretion could be summarized nutshell: “Shut the damned thing off!”.
Walter Cronkite became the face of the Vietnam War, or rather—as history would have us believe—the voice of the American people in their disfavor of it.
During the Vietnam years, I became an adolescent. And the television unexpectedly became a double-edged sword—while it brought the bloody trenches into your home during suppertime, we’d learned enough by then to detach ourselves from the content.
If we tried hard enough, we could consign the Vietnam War to the world of “make believe”, consciously or not.
But down deep, I knew it was not make-believe. And now, I cannot watch the footage, although I’ve linked to some here for the sake of truth and for those who suffered and died there.
For a pathos-rich rendition of the Vietnam War through the eyes of an “observer”, see the 1987 film Good Morning Vietnam!, based on a true story, and featuring Robin Williams as a war DJ.
Good Morning Vietnam
Coming Home, made in 1978, with Jane Fonda and John Voigt, about a paralyzed veteran returning to the USA, is also a must-see for the era.
Flower Power Shop: History Channel, Viet Nam: A Soldier’s Diary, DVD; Good Morning Vietnam, Film; Coming Home, Film.
Jimmy Carter & the Hostage Crisis (1979—1981)
I was on the verge of turning 19 when the Iranian hostage crisis electrified the world with shock and dismay. It had crossed the line on international boundaries relating to diplomatic immunity.
For me, it marked the end of an era—the death of peace, love and flower power.
For more than a year, we were unwillingly enthralled by the plight of the American hostages and then the failed rescue attempt in April 1980.
I’ll never forget the face of then President Jimmy Carter—widely dubbed the “peanut farmer” president—as he stood strong in the face of absolute humiliation, outlining the failed mission and the deaths of 8 American soldiers, on an international stage.
Jimmy Carter
Two things smacked of bitter irony, in retrospect: that Ronny Reagan would reap the public accolades of the liberation of the hostages; and, that, despite the vagaries of political events, I always found kindness in Jimmy Carter’s face.
Ergo, when he collected the 2002 Nobel Peace Prize for his work in peace, human rights and economic development, I felt that karma had finally balanced. Flower Power Shop: 21st Century Complete Guide to the Carter Presidential Archives, CD-ROM; Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, by Jimmy Carter, Books.
The Killing of John Lennon (1940—1980)
1995 stamp of John Lennon from Azerbaijan
Do you remember where you were when John Lennon was assassinated on 8th December, 1980? I was in a car driving down the main street of downtown Toronto, Canada when “Imagine” came on the radio.
At the end of the song, the DJ announced that John Lennon had been murdered in New York. I was 20 years old.
I was 8 years old when John and Yoko did their “Bed-in for Peace” at the Amsterdam Hilton in 1969, which was broadcast straight into our living room TV. My father, a devout Catholic, stood their shaking his fist at their unseeing eyes.
I realized that there were many in the world, who would neither understand nor forgive John and Yoko for upsetting the applecart of the status quo. John said they had called Yoko “ugly".
I guess it was their best shot—failing a bullet which was, of course, later remedied by a madman.
When John died, I thought being 40 was “middle aged” and that he, at least, had a good life before it was taken in such an arbitrary manner. Now I know that he was young, oh so young.
At 40 we are merely in the first bloom of the second half of life.
Lennon was famous for his peace efforts and equally infamous when he was quoted, as a member of The Beatles, saying: “We’re more popular than Jesus now.”
I “imagined” all of the songs yet to be written, the life of a two sons—one just growing up—without a father, a wife without her man.
I considered the fact that it wasn’t the first time the Beatles were associated with the dark urges of a mind steeped in psychopathology—from Manson to Chapman.
I wondered if all we ever did was pay lip service to the message of his songs or if, perhaps, someone had been listening after all.
Flower Power Shop: Imagine, CD; John Lennon: The Life, Books.
Winds of Change—The Berlin Wall (1961—1989)
The Berlin Wall had been in existence from my earliest memories and symbolized a sinister and secretive East and its division from the West, a frontier where man, woman and beast moved freely.
The Cold War and the Russian Reds filled every child of the 60’s and 70’s with dread. The Soviet Blok was the “bogeyman” of our childhood.
I was 11 years old the day elementary school classes in Canada were cancelled, while school children assembled en masse in the gymnasium to watch a special TV broadcast.
It was September 28, 1972, the day Team Canada beat the Soviet Union in the Summit Series with “the goal heard around the world”—an event that made it to the Hockey Hall of Fame.
In a strange communal state of fierce pride, brimming tears, and overwhelming joy, we embraced one another that day.
And 17 years later, as the Berlin Wall came down, I sat in my living room with friends, watched the proceedings, realizing this was another “goal heard around the world”.
The elation of an international audience found it’s outlet in the song entitled Wind of Change, a worldwide hit by 1991.
Flower Power Shop: The Fall of the Berlin Wall (Perspectives on Modern World History), Books; Canada’s Team of the Century; Canada Vs. U.S.S.R., Games 1-8, DVD; Moment of Glory, by the Scorpions, (contains Wind of Change), CD.
