When I was a kid, many moons ago, on Saturday mornings we had cartoons and then in the afternoon, movies. While other children were out playing, I’d be glued to the t.v. watching such Vincent Price greats as The Pit and the Pendulum and the Abominable Dr. Phibes. One of my favorites that used to be on regular rotation was Caged, staring the beautiful Eleanor Parker, who kinda looked like my mom when she was young, except my mom was prettier, and also Agnes Moorehead, one of the greatest actresses who ever lived. Who needed friends and the suburban forests of the Sixties that clung to the edges of the post-WWII housing complexes that all of us Whitey Whites of a certain age were “nurtured” in?
Even as a child I knew that I was growing up in a generational hot seat. All of those toys they came out with! Hot Wheels, Hoppity Hops, Light Brights, Suzie Homemaker Ovens, G.I. Joes and Barbies. The list is endless. How can we forget Crayons? The giant crayon box the us rich kids had. It had 12 shades of green. How awesome.
Of course, I’m poor as dirt now, but those were the days. I cherish my late baby boomer generation with all my heart. We created the markets that caused America’s economy to expand. Our parents grew up dirt poor and they wanted to make sure that their kids never had to suffer like that. Now? The worm has gone full circle. People in my age group are more likely to overdose on heroin than any other. That about sums it all up.