Times have changed
When I was a kid and summer started, I would run outside at the butt crack of dawn and come back one time to pee or change clothes. I was then right back out till dark.
I was forced to eat dinner with my mom and dad and then right back out I went.
On the weekends starting Friday night's we would have parties. All my parents hippy friends woud come over. smoke drink play music. I learned fashion, slang, jokes, and manners from these parties and my parents.
See, in the 70's things were way different, no one was out to hurt kids, no one took themselves so fucken seriously and everyone helped each other.
When I was about ten, my mom and dad and I were on our way in our volkswagon bug to my grandma's house. We lived in Milpitas and she lived in Mt. View which is about a 15 to 20 minute drive. Well, we broke down as soon as we got on the freeway. We all stood out on the side of the road and the first car that saw us stopped and picked us up. Off we went to grandma's house, front door service. We had a friend in Miplitas get our car off the freeway, and before we made it home, our bug was already in our drive way.
Another time, we had gone to the college to see a light show that played Led Zepplin, because we were a good hippy family. On the way home, we stopped at a donut shop. We (the parentals) had coffee with friends, and talked. Then when it was time to leave we broke down, couldnt even get it out of the fricken driveway.
We had no idea what to do since it was about one in the morning.
The guy working in the donut shop came out and told me dad to laod up his family and friends and get his girl home safe. I stood their with my jaw dropped.... was this station wagon with cool wood panneling going to be our new ride? I loved it! I loved the room, I loved the different smell, since bugs have their own little weird German car smell.
I loved it all. We dropped off our friends and took it home. Got a good sleep, then the next morning my dad and I took it down the road to get detailed, washed and a full tank of gas. We returned it promptly the next morning after getting our wounded bug back home. The memory of that man's kindness still blows me away. He didnt judge us because we had big bell bottom pants and my dad looked JUST LIKE Robert Plant. He didnt judge our hippy friends with their long hair, and he didnt judge them for having me out so late. It was a family in need and this man out of the kindness of his heart gave us the keys to his station wagon to make sure we would get home safe. No money was exchanged, no pink slips, license, it was all done in trust. He trusted us that we would be back, he trusted us. It all worked out.
I still remember his face and his little pop belly with his dark hair comb over. His thick glasses. I wonder if I told him I loved that station wagon, for all it represented.
I wish I could take my daughter back in time so she could experiance what I was fortunate enough to experiance. I'm not saying my childhood was "perfect" because we had some creepy old men that lurked on our innocents, but all in all, friends, family, school, fights, good times, bad times, I would never ever ever change anything about it. It made me who I am today. I am weary of old men, HA!
I wish she could see how since I was raised around drugs and partying and good people, that that doesnt mean you will grow up to do drugs, be a loser, infact since I had all this around me all the time, I was the one in school who was the last to do drugs, the last to lose my virginity and the last to have a kid.
I was the one who didnt cave to peer pressure. Of course I was also the kid when the cops came to our elementary school to talk about drugs, I was the one who knew what everything on the table was.... but couldnt say so.... it wasnt a GOOD thing and no prizes were to be won if you knew the "Stuff" on the table. Like why should a ten year old girl know what Zig Zag's are for.
I was able to talk to my mom and dad about anything. I never felt like I couldnt talk to them, and for that I am eternaly grateful. When my friends were struggling with getting on the pill or smoking dop or dropping pills, they could only talk to their friends, which didn't always work in their favor.
Now I'm older and a child of my own. Somethings will never change. I will always worry about her, I should correct that. I actualy don't worry about her, I worry about other people. I tell her daily, I trust you, I just don't trust other people.
Times have changed and it's not for the good, so let's dance.
I was forced to eat dinner with my mom and dad and then right back out I went.
On the weekends starting Friday night's we would have parties. All my parents hippy friends woud come over. smoke drink play music. I learned fashion, slang, jokes, and manners from these parties and my parents.
See, in the 70's things were way different, no one was out to hurt kids, no one took themselves so fucken seriously and everyone helped each other.
When I was about ten, my mom and dad and I were on our way in our volkswagon bug to my grandma's house. We lived in Milpitas and she lived in Mt. View which is about a 15 to 20 minute drive. Well, we broke down as soon as we got on the freeway. We all stood out on the side of the road and the first car that saw us stopped and picked us up. Off we went to grandma's house, front door service. We had a friend in Miplitas get our car off the freeway, and before we made it home, our bug was already in our drive way.
Another time, we had gone to the college to see a light show that played Led Zepplin, because we were a good hippy family. On the way home, we stopped at a donut shop. We (the parentals) had coffee with friends, and talked. Then when it was time to leave we broke down, couldnt even get it out of the fricken driveway.
We had no idea what to do since it was about one in the morning.
The guy working in the donut shop came out and told me dad to laod up his family and friends and get his girl home safe. I stood their with my jaw dropped.... was this station wagon with cool wood panneling going to be our new ride? I loved it! I loved the room, I loved the different smell, since bugs have their own little weird German car smell.
I loved it all. We dropped off our friends and took it home. Got a good sleep, then the next morning my dad and I took it down the road to get detailed, washed and a full tank of gas. We returned it promptly the next morning after getting our wounded bug back home. The memory of that man's kindness still blows me away. He didnt judge us because we had big bell bottom pants and my dad looked JUST LIKE Robert Plant. He didnt judge our hippy friends with their long hair, and he didnt judge them for having me out so late. It was a family in need and this man out of the kindness of his heart gave us the keys to his station wagon to make sure we would get home safe. No money was exchanged, no pink slips, license, it was all done in trust. He trusted us that we would be back, he trusted us. It all worked out.
I still remember his face and his little pop belly with his dark hair comb over. His thick glasses. I wonder if I told him I loved that station wagon, for all it represented.
I wish I could take my daughter back in time so she could experiance what I was fortunate enough to experiance. I'm not saying my childhood was "perfect" because we had some creepy old men that lurked on our innocents, but all in all, friends, family, school, fights, good times, bad times, I would never ever ever change anything about it. It made me who I am today. I am weary of old men, HA!
I wish she could see how since I was raised around drugs and partying and good people, that that doesnt mean you will grow up to do drugs, be a loser, infact since I had all this around me all the time, I was the one in school who was the last to do drugs, the last to lose my virginity and the last to have a kid.
I was the one who didnt cave to peer pressure. Of course I was also the kid when the cops came to our elementary school to talk about drugs, I was the one who knew what everything on the table was.... but couldnt say so.... it wasnt a GOOD thing and no prizes were to be won if you knew the "Stuff" on the table. Like why should a ten year old girl know what Zig Zag's are for.
I was able to talk to my mom and dad about anything. I never felt like I couldnt talk to them, and for that I am eternaly grateful. When my friends were struggling with getting on the pill or smoking dop or dropping pills, they could only talk to their friends, which didn't always work in their favor.
Now I'm older and a child of my own. Somethings will never change. I will always worry about her, I should correct that. I actualy don't worry about her, I worry about other people. I tell her daily, I trust you, I just don't trust other people.
Times have changed and it's not for the good, so let's dance.
posted by Jen @ 12:22 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home