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too
····humid to sleep—a cat on the old car’s
········hood
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····humid to sleep—a cat on the old car’s
········hood
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When I wrote the post’s date, I typed 1978. I have no idea where that came from. All kinds of memories surfaced. I remember always writing, in pencil, the date on top of my elementary school papers, and remember writing 1978. I remember the new kid in school who single-handedly killed bell-bottomed jeans by wearing white baggy pants. All the boys ridiculed him but did 180ºs when they saw the girls ogling him—the rebel, the new kid, a boxer, fleet, and funny. There were only four channels to watch when I got home: NBC, ABC, CBS and PBS. I always watched The Amazing Spiderman, Gilligan’s Island, or Bewitched on the weekdays. When I was younger I sat on my grandfather’s lap and watched westerns like Bonanza and Gunsmoke. My memories of the 70’s are loud cars, terrifying teen-aged boys with long hair and women with hair to their waists and longer nails. Humid nights. Moths trafficking in the air above the night-lit football fields. Highschool cheerleaders. Sweating middle-aged men smoking cigarettes as they watched the young girls. All good memories.
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259 September 16th 2017 | bottlecap
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