A Walk Down Memory Lane

Morning Story and Dilbert

Vintage Dilbert
March 18, 1998

A little house with three bedrooms and one car on the street,
A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat.

In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone,
And no need for recording things, someone was always home.

We only had a living room where we would congregate,
Unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate.

We had no need for family rooms or extra rooms to dine,
When meeting as a family those two rooms would work out fine.

We only had one TV set, and channels maybe two,
But always there was one of them with something worth the view.

For snacks we had potato chips that tasted like a chip,
And if you wanted flavor there was Lipton’s onion dip.

Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked to cook,
And nothing can compare to snacks in Betty Crockery’s book.

The snacks were even healthy with the best ingredients,
No labels with a hundred things that make not a bit of sense.

Weekends were for family trips or staying home to play,
We all did things together — even go to church to pray.

When we did our weekend trips depending on the weather,
No one stayed at home because we liked to be together.

Sometimes we would separate to do things on our own,
But we knew where the others were without our own cell phone.

Then there were the movies with your favorite movie star,
And nothing can compare to watching movies in your car.

Then there were the picnics at the peak of summer season,
Pack a lunch and find some trees and never need a reason.

Get a baseball game together with all the friends you know,
Have real action playing ball — and no game video.

Remember when the doctor used to be the family friend,
And didn’t need insurance or a lawyer to defend?

The way that he took care of you or what he had to do,
Because he took an oath and strived to do the best for you.

Remember going to the store and shopping casually,
And when you went to pay for it you used your own money?

Nothing that you had to swipe or punch in some amount,
Remember when the cashier person had to really count?

Remember when we breathed the air; it smelled so fresh and clean,
And chemicals were not used on the grass to keep it green.

The milkman used to go from door to door,
And it was just a few cents more than going to the store.

There was a time when mailed letters came right to your door,
Without a lot of junk mail ads sent out by every store.

The mailman knew each house by name and knew where it was sent;
There were not loads of mail addressed to “present occupant.”

Remember when the words “I do” meant that you really did,
And not just temporarily “til someone blows their lid.”

T’was no such thing as “no one’s fault; we just made a mistake,”
There was a time when married life was built on give and take.

There was a time when just one glance was all that it would take,
And you would know the kind of car, the model and the make.

They didn’t look like turtles trying to squeeze out every mile;
They were streamlined, white walls, fins, and really had some style.

One time the music that you played whenever you would jive,
Was from a vinyl, big-holed record called a forty-five.

The record player had a post to keep them all in line,
And then the records would drop down and play one at a time.

Oh sure, we had our problems then, just like we do today,
And always we were striving, trying for a better way.

And every year that passed us by brought new and greater things,
We now can even program phones with music or with rings.

Oh, the simple life we lived still seems like so much fun,
How can you explain a game, just kick the can and run?

And why would boys put baseball cards between bicycle spokes,
And for a nickel red machines had little bottled Cokes?

This life seemed so much easier and slower in some ways,
I love the new technology but I sure miss those days.

So, time moves on and so do we, and nothing stays the same,
But I sure love to reminisce and walk down memory lane.

Author Unknown - Please comment if you know the author so credit can be given
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11 comments
  1. ladygardeenya said:

    Such wonderful memories. It was a magical time.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I needed that today. Thanks. My daddy had that milkman job back in the 50s. Keep these goodies coming.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ah, the ideal picture of middle-class suburban life in 1950s America. Quite a few of these I remember, though for some of them, our home just wasn’t this serene. My Mom & Dad got along best by avoiding each other and rarely set foot in a church. But I’m happy for everyone who has such pleasant memories.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I lived that life. Now I note with sadness the phones and computers which have destroyed our ability to talk face to face. We even break up with people over the devices of non expression. We are becoming a society of drones with no expressions and a lack of face time.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Memory Lane is my favorite street! And this poem sure had me skipping down to our little house of the 1950s, watching the softball game in the side yard, and hearing Mom call us to get in the car–we were going to the park for a picnic. (Our family was the first one there in the spring, and the last one in the fall. Mother loved picnics! Thank you, Kenny, for a delightful post.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Thank you for sharing these wonderful morning stories, especially ones like these. Cherishing those walks down memory lanes become treasures to store in our hearts for rainy days. God bless you!

    Liked by 1 person

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