I was born in 1964. But all of this smacks of baby boomer nostalgia.
So? What? (An effective if underutilized phrase in today's America.)
I think it has a lot more legs than mere nostaligia and many are visible and palpable to some brief reflection. But at the same time I don't want to just draw my own conclusions with my writing on the wall.
The historic notes were not off hand or random. Just as the Faulkner quote was not happenstance.
I'm trying to be a bit more allusive than discursive.
And I assure you there is NOTHING NOSTALGIC about Sanka, Tang, and other sawdust forms of packaged foods.
On the other hand, the Baby Boomers got many, many things wrong in their trek through the nation. One of the things we got very very right was changing the food scene for the better.
Gerard, Thanks for the nifty post on yesteryear. People have to be at a certain level of maturity to appreciate articles like this one.
Don't be bothered by punk kids with cheap shots. I find consolation in thinking that, indeed, their time will come. Well, those that make it that far along the road of life. It ain't for weaklings.
The first fifty years is the hardest. The second fifty don't last so long.
Spacey Screwdriver: Tang & Vodka
Went to 3 different grocery store chains and STILL didn't find full size Shredded Wheats.
But this morning was chilly so I had me a stout bowl of Cream of Wheat with Karo all over the top of it. Mmmmmmmmmmmm...............
Us Gettysburgers put ketchup on our egg sandwiches.
Oh I'm not really that bothered by the remarks. In fact I guess I just have to be more, as I said, discursive. After all isn't the controlling quote here: "IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO SPEAK IN SUCH A WAY THAT YOU CANNOT BE MISUNDERSTOOD." -- KARL POPPER
It's my fault for being too off hand.
This is your house, no fault whatsoever. Guests ought to show respect and be courteous.
Where I come from people lose teeth talking rude.
'64 was a very good year. Oogled Carol Doda's "doodabs" at some dive in North Beach in San Francisco. Got to visit the Philippines and Vietnam courtesy of Uncle Sam. Learned some Tagalog in the bars of Olongapo. Learned to appreciate the Beatles, Elvis, and more while listening to the Perry de Guzman orchestra at Subic Bay, P.I. Learned that Vietnam was not a place where I wanted to live......or even visit.
All that but little memory of the food I ate. Well, I don't live to eat. Just the opposite.
Lose teeth? Ah, heck, I ain't that tough.
"Oh no I've said too much
I haven't said enough"
Quaker Oats and Aunt Jemimah survive. Racist?
OK, I give up. I recognize everything except the box with PRIME on it. What the heck is that? Can't even effectively google it.