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My Place

Old thoughts from an old man..

My place is filled with happy things,

It’s where I keep thoughts and wishes.

Norman Rockwell scenes and summer nights,

A place I seek for the safety it brings.

In my place all things are alive and well,

Like Wally and Ward and June Cleaver,

And they really did Leave It To Beaver.

Even the TV ads back then had good stuff to sell.

Remember Alka Seltzer and Brylcream for your hair?

Ice cold Kool-ade on a hot summer day?

Sweet tea? Macaroni & cheese? Fried bologna sammiches?

I do.. and they are all still there.

My place has fireflies being chased,

Kids playing tag even after dark,

Baseball all day long and chiggers from the grass.

How could I possibly let these things go to waste.

There are kites flying and water balloons,

Metal roller skates with keys to adjust them.

Building forts from old wood and stuff,

Our days playing hide and seek ended too soon.

In my place we all had pets,

Dogs named Rocco and cats named Muffy,

County fairs were amazing places to be,

Keeping these alive I have no regrets.

Moms wore dresses and Dads wore ties,

We sat down to dinner and actually turned the TV off.

Transistor radios were cool to have,

And no one wore sunglasses to cover their eyes.

There was one car per family back in those days,

Kids wore their caps with the bills facing forward.

No one had cellphones or laptops and music came from jukeboxes,

How sad it is that we changed our ways.

My place has soda fountains and a counter with stools,

Chocolate sodas, cherry cokes, and Moon Pies,

We walked to school no matter how far it was,

And we wore T-shirts and jeans because they looked so cool.

Sunday morning church and family vacations,

Wooden desks in school where we carved our initials.

Library books that were always overdue by fifteen cents,

And AM radios only had about seven or eight stations.

Going steady meant matching shirts and wearing your ring,

Friday night dates at the drive-in theaters,

Popeye and Tweety and Sylvester the Cat,

In my place there are all these things.

Sitting on the living room floor watching TV at night,

No one had a TV in their bedroom back then.

Bonanza and Jackie Gleason and Ed Sullivan show,

Frankenstein and werewolf still caused such a fright.

Everyone had nicknames like Packy or Duke or Booger,

Flat tops and butch wax or Elvis Presley hair,

Annette Funicello was hot on Mickey Mouse Club,

And our cereals didn’t come all loaded down with sugar.

These things I keep safe and locked in my place.

They bring me peace to sit amongst them.

A gentler world from a gentler time,

Like me.. someday.. will be gone without a trace.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2010-2040 LDJohnson (Dreamcatcher) - All rights reserved, including all copyrights and all other intellectual property rights in the contents hereof.

The contents and composition herein are not to be copied, reproduced, printed, published, posted, displayed, incorporated, stored in or scanned into a retrieval system or database, transmitted, broadcast, bartered or sold, in whole or in part without the prior express written permission of this author.

Unauthorized duplication is strictly prohibited and will be considered illegally plagiarized and subject to any or all damage claims, and is an infringement of National and International Copyright laws.

This composition may have been inspired by something seen or heard at a time or place heretofore forgotten. In all cases, credit has been attempted to be properly given and when so given, shown as a note or in footnotes. Failure to give proper credit is a mere oversight and/or unknown to this author and not an intentional act.

It is intended to reflect an original work of fiction or based upon personal experiences. Names, characters, places, and descriptions of incidents are products of this author's imagination, fictitiously expressed, personal experience expressed either in detail or loosely referenced, or merely the humble opinion of this author. Any similarities to actual persons or events are coincidental and subject to this author's determination.

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