Class of ‘87

January 31, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 23 Comments

I have a couple of updates for you on the college class of 1987 (high school class of 1983). Most of us were born in 1965, so we are turning 60 this year. One of my best friends from college turned 60 yesterday. She broke the ice. Now the rest of us will follow…if we’re lucky. Making it to 60 is not a given. We’ve lost people—mostly to cancer, but sudden massive heart attacks have taken down a few of the men.

I appear to be the only grandparent in my college class of about 500, which is wild. A few people still have kids in high school, so I guess we tended to have kids late, but still…it’s a vivid illustration that the birthrate actually has cratered in this country.

Another observation is that people truly do age differently. Some people look 40 at 60, and some look 80. Money seems to be a factor, but not the only one. Most people are still working, but they’re either talking about retirement or saying they will never be able to retire. “Work ‘til I die” is some people’s retirement plan.

There is both a lot of concern—and a fair bit of bragging—about adult children in their 20s. “You’re only as happy as your least happy child” seems to be true. (But if you’re posting an effusive happy birthday message, with multiple pictures, for a 27-year old who doesn’t even use Facebook, you may need to let go a bit.)

Our parents, if we still have them, are very old now. I know of only one other classmate with two living parents like me. More of our mothers are still alive than our fathers.

For the first and oldest official GenXers, the Eighties was our decade. Nobody has quite so many formative memories of those years as we do. Do not challenge us to an 80s trivia quiz, because we will win. And we will also look back on it all with slightly rose-colored glasses. We’ll forget the bad stuff and laugh about that time we ate pot brownies at school and Mr. Ullman’s physics class finally made sense.

I never did see anyone get pizza delivered to a class like Jeff Spicoli, but that would have been amazing.

*Fast Times at Ridgemont High* came out the summer before our senior year in high school.

The pizza delivery scene

The Cape

January 28, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 6 Comments

I’ve been digitizing old photos over the past few weeks. I have a ton of them. There’s no way I could save all of them in the event of a fire. I wouldn’t even want to. There are too many.

Walt Whitman’s lines “I am large, I contain multitudes” keep popping into my head. I’ve gone through so many phases in my nearly 60 years. I contain multitudes. We all do.

One theme I’m finding is that we (like everyone) mostly took photos on vacations and holidays. And there’s one vacation destination in Massachusetts that everyone knows: Cape Cod. It’s known simply as “the Cape.” (There’s another popular cape in Massachusetts, but that one gets referred to by its full name: Cape Ann.)

Cape Cod is where the Kennedys summered and it’s just one of those places that everyone in Massachusetts has memories of. If you didn’t have a friend with a house “down the Cape,” then you probably rented one or stayed in a Cape hotel at least a few times in your life.

My earliest memories of the Cape include barfing after eating scallops at Thompson’s Clam Bar, having my grandmother tell me that they thought I’d drowned when I went missing at the beach one day, and waiting for the sun to come out.

I’ve been lucky to visits “The Islands” many times too. (If you’re from Massachusetts, you know that The Islands are Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket.) But the Cape is where my earliest vacation memories happened.

I’m realizing that the places where our memories were made—where our lives have played out—are quite meaningful. They’re the settings for our stories.

At the beach on Cape Cod, 1970, with my Italian grandmother in a bathing suit (a rare occurrence). I don’t remember how I hurt my knee, but I do remember wearing that huge bandage.

What exactly did he say?

January 23, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 14 Comments

From People magazine:

The Republican vice presidential candidate said that having a grandparent around the house made his son “a much better human being.” He continued, “And the evidence on this, by the way, is, like, super clear.“

“That’s the whole purpose of the postmenopausal female in theory,” Weinstein interjects, as Vance says, “Yes.”

As a post-menopausal female, I can tell you that seeing my granddaughter once a week (and providing my daughter a bit of support by way of groceries, baked goods, diaper changing, etc) IS the greatest joy in my life right now.

Have I told you how absolutely adorable my granddaughter is??? I miss her the minute I get home. She is just the cutest little snuggle bunny ever! And her mommy is doing such a great job taking care of her, that I can truly just do the fun stuff like look at board books with her, stage monthly thematic photo shoots, and dance with her in the kitchen.

I know that I have been given a great gift in that I had the financial ability to retire “early” at about the same time I became a grandma. And also, that my daughter and her family live nearby.

So back to JD. I don’t like him. He’s an arrogant little shit who reminds me of the worst millennial coworkers I ever had. (They think they know everything.) But, unlike some of my friends, I’m just gonna let that particular comment go. We have much bigger problems now.

Knee socks

January 18, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 14 Comments

Today’s realization from The Great Photo Digitization Project of 2025 (inspired by the tragic California wildfires) is that I was an extremely well-dressed child. (My own kids were nowhere near as well-dressed as my sister and I were.)

And this was before the era of “fast fashion,” so my mother made many of our dresses and outfits.

We always had matching accessories too. Note the headband in this shot:

With my baby cousin Steven and Aunt Betsy, 1971

In my old photo albums, one accessory is featured more than all the others and that is color-coordinated knee socks. I remember having a drawer full of them. Thinking back, they were pretty cool because they came in so many different colors and were way more comfortable than tights.

Knee socks *and* a matching purse for the first day of first grade

Note the “milk box” near the front door (I am old)

Facilitated by my mother and a Marshall’s opening up in my town in the late 70s (“Brand Names for Less”), I ended up being a major clothes horse right through high school. I embraced the Reagan era “preppy look” and had dozens of sweaters in every color of the rainbow. My closet looked like a Benetton store.

It wasn’t until I tried to fit all my clothes into a tiny freshman dorm closet that I realized how ridiculously many I had.

First Communion

January 17, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 11 Comments

I’m continuing to selectively digitize my old photos and I bring you a comparison of the two methods: iPhone photo vs PhotoScan by Google.

Let me know if you have thoughts about which method is better quality, because it’s too much work to do both.

Because most of these photos are stuck in the old adhesive style photo albums, I’m having to pry them out if I want to see what (if anything) is written on the back. Then I’m stuck with a loose photo that I’ve been taping back into place with painter’s tape.

The photos above were taken on my “First Communion” day in April 1973. Despite my previously described love of veils, I remember I did not like that one. It was attached to a very uncomfortable headband that squeezed my head painfully. Perhaps this was a sign of the rocky road ahead for me and the Catholic Church.

Other than the painful headband, I remember getting some religious-themed presents (a Bible locket, an angel) and being made to feel quite special with a family party after the main event at the church.

I think we look like a real mid-century Italian-American family in these photos, but my dad is no Tony Soprano. He loved his mother (my long-widowed “Grammy”) dearly and she worshipped him. He was far and away her favorite child. As the only boy in an Italian family, he was extra special and he took great care of her until her death in 1992, just a month short of her 90th birthday.

1974: GenX turns 9

January 16, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 2 Comments

Born in the summer of 1965, I am part of the oldest GenX cohort (1965-80) and I’m discovering through my photo digitizing project, that I’m quite well documented.

My parents took a lot of pictures. Many of them were bad (“delete” was not an option back then) but there’s at least a few photos from every single year of my life through college graduation. (Whereas, we probably have five pictures in all of my father as a kid.)

It looks like the summer of 1974 was the peak of my gymnastics prowess. I remember that I worked very hard and mastered a “front walkover” as a kid and here’s the proof:

I don’t think I ever progressed to handsprings (too hard). And I certainly never did a walkover on a balance beam (too scary).

Two years prior, in 1972, a tiny Soviet gymnast named Olga Korbut did a backflip off the uneven bars in the Munich Summer Olympics, won three gold medals, and inspired a lot of little American girls to try some new tricks. I was one of them.

And so, for my 60th birthday this summer, I pledge to work hard to reenact this photo and perform a front walkover in front of an audience.

KIDDING!! Can you even imagine? I’ll stick to Downward Dogs.

My 9th birthday party on my parents’ porch in the summer of ‘74. My sister and I and my neighborhood friends Candy, Kim, Carolyn and Bethanne had a good time.

The Original Guinea Pig

January 15, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 23 Comments

My photo digitizing project continues…

Thanks to blogger Dwight Roth (a wonderful poet), I’ve learned that sometimes an iPhone photo of an old print is just as good or better than a “scan.”

Today’s discovery is Rainbow—the original guinea pig.

Rainbow was the first in a series of guinea pigs that my sister and I had as pets in the 70s. My main memories of the little fellows involve the absolute anguish we felt when they inevitably got sick and died. I can’t believe my mother spent good money taking them to see veterinarians when they stopped eating. (Maybe she lied about that and just drove around the block a few times.) I remember praying to God to save my guinea pigs. He never did.

In any case, I’ve learned that Rainbow was my class pet in kindergarten and I took him home for the summer.

I was happy to discover some good guinea pig memories in one of the old photo albums.

Good times in Kindergarten with two boys whose first and last names I *still* remember. (Yet, I can’t recall the name of a new person I met in church last week.)

I love how Rainbow got his own square in the class photo.

I was a wary little kindergartener. Thank goodness Rainbow didn’t die on my watch.

We hosted a neighborhood party for our guinea pig “Cookie” and another guinea pig in the summer of 1973. It looks like they had a nice little feast.

A happy memory of “Candy” roaming free in our backyard in the summer of 1974. I remember the guinea pigs loved nibbling clover and were very cute doing so. 🐹

Matching Sisters

January 14, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 13 Comments

In continuing my California wildfires-inspired photo scanning project, I’m seeing another theme emerge: matching sisters.

I have just one sibling, a younger sister, and my mother loved to put us in matching outfits, many of which she sewed herself.

I’m giving my mother an A++ for the extraordinary effort it took to not only make some of our clothing, but to have the two outfits clean on the same day and get us both to agree to wear them. You must admit, we looked very cute and were a big hit when out in public.

Unless you had hippie parents, this was a common thing for girls in the late 60s and early 70s. Sisters matched. I don’t remember boys being put in matching outfits, but maybe some were.

To be honest, my sister and I are not close and have not been for many years. We are extremely different people. I don’t know if being seen as a “set” of girls from a young age had a negative impact or not. I know there was a certain expectation that I would set an example for her. And as you may have heard, oldest daughters tend towards perfectionism, which probably isn’t fun for the ones who come after.

But darn it, we were cute.

June 1971 (these may have been dance recital costumes)

November 1972 (sometimes our outfits were similar, but not identical)

Here we are with our close family friends who happened to have boys. They were never in matching outfits.

Haiku: Babylove

January 10, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 6 Comments

Perfect little hand

A bubble of love surrounds

Baby brings such joy

Peter Pan Syndrome

January 9, 2025September 18, 2025 ~ MaryG ~ 12 Comments

Below is a ChatGPT description of “Peter Pan Syndrome.”

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Peter Pan Syndrome refers to individuals who struggle with accepting adult responsibilities, often exhibiting emotional immaturity. While it’s not an official psychological diagnosis, the concept identifies key behavioral traits. The six main signs often associated with Peter Pan Syndrome are:

1. Avoidance of Responsibility

Difficulty committing to long-term goals, careers, or relationships, and a tendency to avoid adult obligations such as financial independence or household management.

2. Emotional Immaturity

Difficulty handling criticism, conflict, or stress, often reacting in a childlike or overly defensive manner.

3. Fear of Commitment

Reluctance to commit to relationships, work, or life plans, often prioritizing short-term pleasure over stability.

4. Dependency

Relying heavily on parents, partners, or others for financial or emotional support instead of fostering independence.

5. Escapism

Seeking constant distraction or entertainment, such as video games, social media, or partying, to avoid facing responsibilities.

6. Narcissistic Tendencies

A self-centered outlook, prioritizing personal desires over the needs of others, with difficulty showing empathy or maintaining healthy relationships.