eighties

My 80s friend

~ MaryG ~ 11 Comments

At Christmas dinner yesterday, my father told me he had run into my old friend Debbie at the fish market. They recognized each other and exchanged some quick pleasantries.

Debbie and I were neighborhood friends who ended up becoming close friends for many years. She knew my parents well and I knew her family too. Her dad was a great guy. We took several trips to California and Florida in our late teens and twenties. We did a fair number of edgy things together including lots of underage drinking, shoplifting, dine-n-dashing, and at least one crazy 80s Spring Break trip to Fort Lauderdale. (Wet t-shirt contest anyone?) Debbie was 18 months older than me (a year ahead of me in high school) and liked to party and dance. I’m sure my first nightclub experience was with her. Even though she was a true redhead, she loved the sun like I did and we went to the beach as often as possible. We went skiing a few times too and once spun out in my mother’s car driving in a snowstorm. We did a 180 and hit the guardrail. (Debbie was driving at the time and we were fine.) In fact, we wanted to carry on with our ski trip with one headlight dangling, but when we called my parents from a gas station, they made us come home.

Debbie and I stayed friends for many years through a variety of life experiences including her being severely burned in a freak accident. (I remember visiting her in Shriner’s Burn Center where I saw the most horrifically scarred young children.) We knew each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. We attended each other’s weddings and then drifted apart as we became mothers and got busy raising kids. Still, we sent Christmas cards and occasionally saw each other in person.

Then, at some point during the second Obama administration her right-leaning political posts on Facebook caused a tiff between us. We unfriended each other and that was that. Some years later, I felt badly about it, but figured she had probably morphed into a Trump supporter, so what would be the purpose of reaching out. We were too different by then.

You know that expression about some friends being for a reason, some for a season, and some for a lifetime? Well, at one point I might’ve thought we’d be friends for a lifetime, but it turns out we were friends for a season. And our season was the 1980s. Big time.

Christmas 1989 (towards the end of our close friendship)

If I had to pick one song that tends to trigger a Debbie memory, it would be Kool & the Gang’s Celebration. I picture us dancing around in front of a mirror, sipping some alcohol, while we made our hair as big & fluffy as possible for whatever came next.

Charm Bracelet

~ MaryG ~ 18 Comments

Back in the 70s, charm bracelets were a common gift for girls. Typically girls got the bracelet with one or two “charms” as a first gift and then additional charms for birthdays and Christmases ever after.

Charms were little silver representations of some hobby or activity that the girl liked to do.

I loved my charm bracelet. I have kept it in a box in my closet for decades now. It lives with a bunch of other sentimental jewelry that I no longer wear, but cannot part with.

I recently bought some of those tiny silver polishing cloths to shine up some old jewelry and decided to clean my charm bracelet.

As we very eagerly await the birth of my granddaughter sometime within the next two weeks, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to show it to her and tell her about the meaning of all the charms.

There are 17 charms on my bracelet. Most represent things that were important to me as a child and teenager.

Counterclockwise from 1 o’clock:

  1. Santa’s sleigh (I loved Christmas!)
  2. An upright piano, just like the one I played
  3. A Camp Fire Girls 5-years charm (I had forgotten how important the CFG were to me)
  4. A set of silver bells (not sure why I had those, but I’m assuming they were Christmas-related)
  5. A Camp Fire Girls 6-years charm
  6. The B-1 Bomber (Unusual, yes, but my Dad was an engineer and a pilot and his company made some navigational components for the B-1. He was always going to California on business and he must have brought this charm back from one of his trips.)
  7. An ice skate – I loved figure skating.
  8. A tall ship, probably the USS Constitution. The bicentennial in 1976 was a very big deal in Massachusetts. The tall ships visit to Boston was a part of it.
  9. A baton (I loved twirling and being a majorette in high school)
  10. A tennis racket and ball (I had forgotten, but I was quite serious about tennis for several years. I made it to the club finals in singles one summer. I played on the high school team for a year or two.)
  11. A starfish – I loved the beach. (I ill-advisedly took a starfish home with me one time and that thing reeked like hell for months. It was probably still alive and I didn’t realize it. Poor starfish.)
  12. Mickey Mouse – I was one of those very lucky kids in the 70s whose parents took them to Disneyland.
  13. A heart with my birthstone in it
  14. Another Camp Fire Girls charm – my mom was a leader of our group
  15. The Eiffel Tower (I hadn’t been to Paris back then, but I must’ve liked the idea. I sure did love it later on in life.)
  16. A saguaro 🌵 cactus that says Tucson. I had an aunt and six cousins that lived out West. My grandmother would periodically move out there to help them.
  17. The last one is a bit of a mystery. Maybe it’s supposed to be a bicycle. I loved riding my bike. But it looks a bit more like a moped. I remember seeing mopeds a lot on our visits to Nantucket and Block Island, but people were constantly getting seriously injured on them. I don’t think my parents ever let us ride them, so let’s just go with bicycle for that one.

The City

~ MaryG ~ 26 Comments

Growing up in Massachusetts, I should have visited New York City before age 18, but I did not. For some reason, my parents never took us there, even though my mother’s parents were true Brooklynites—Dodgers fans before “dem bums” moved to LA. I remember my grandmother always pronounced certain words the Brooklyn way—“earl” for oil and “erster” for oyster. (My grandparents moved to Worcester, Massachusetts early in their marriage and never returned to Brooklyn.)

I first went to NYC on a bus from my college in Hartford in the mid eighties. We went for the day. I’ll never forget seeing those vertigo-inducing Manhattan skyscrapers for the first time. New York is so much bigger and taller than all the other American cities. Chicago, Miami, Philly, DC, LA, San Francisco, and of course Boston, are all special in their own ways, but New York is the greatest of them all. (And I say this as someone who grew up despising the New York Yankees.)

On that very first trip to NYC, I remember a shopkeeper asked me where I was from and I said “How do you know I’m not from New York?” He answered, “Because you’re not wearing black and you smiled and said thank you.” He guessed I was from Connecticut. Also, on that same trip, my friend Ann told me to quit gawking and saying things like “I can’t believe I’m in NEW YORK.”

I was determined to expose my kids to NYC before they were 18, so they wouldn’t seem so naive and Connecticutty when they visited.

A photo I took of my sister in NYC in 1987. (She was living there at the time and did not give Connecticut vibes like I did.)
My friend Andreada in Washington Square Park in 1988. That was a wild trip. NYC in the late 80s was a bit scary. I had to sit near a nasty perv on the bus down and got robbed of my leather coat while I was out at a bar. AIDS and drug addiction were casting a pall.
My daughter in the Empire State Building, 2005
My son’s first trip to NYC, 2011
A mini-reunion with high school friends in Manhattan in 2011.

In 2018, I just HAD to see Hamilton on Broadway, so my friend Dina and I planned to go down for the day in late March. I thought we’d be safe from winter storms, so I bought tickets to a matinee. But then a freak spring snowstorm was forecast so we went down on the train the night before, so as to not miss the show. Well, the snowstorm was so bad that they cancelled our Amtrak home and we had to stay over a second night. It was quite a snowy adventure! We ended up running into a friend who took us to see a second Broadway show (Carousel starring Renée Fleming) for free. (She had extra tickets because her friends wouldn’t brave the snow.) We ate at the famous Sardi’s restaurant after the show.

The Hamilton marquis on Broadway, 2018
My friend Dina outside the Bryant Park Grill in March 2018. Amtrak shut down for two days due to this little bit of snow! We took the bus home instead.

I went back to NYC for a conference the following month. There was no sign of snow then. I think that was my last trip to the City. I’m not sure when I’ll go back again, but I will.

GenX President

~ MaryG ~ 18 Comments

How would you describe yourself to someone?

I walked into a newly-energized gathering of Democratic activists yesterday and a man said, “Mary, I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been thinking about how much you look like her all week.” Then he called me over to sit near him. He was so excited I was there. It was almost like he transferred his happiness about Kamala onto me for a couple of hours. I was flattered.

The fact is, we don’t look that much alike, but she will most certainly be MY president. (Fingers and toes crossed.) We are both 59. She was born in the fall of 1964 and I was born in the spring of 1965. Like the Obamas, she’s culturally, if not technically, GenX.

I did see a bit of myself in this picture of her from the eighties. It’s not just the slight physical resemblance and the very 80s haircut. It’s the look on her face. We were young women going through the same period of history at exactly the same age. It wasn’t always easy.

Photo of Harris in the 80s (posted by Hillary Clinton last week)
Me in the eighties with my mullet hair

She says she’s 5’ 7.5” in heels. I’m 5’ 8” barefoot. So I guess I’ll wear flats (Chuck Taylors), if I dress up as her for Halloween. At least I know one person who will love my costume.

Vice President Harris in her Chucks

The King of Cruel Nicknames

~ MaryG ~ 15 Comments

What’s the story behind your nickname?

I wasn’t going to respond to this prompt, but then thoughtful posts by Singing Gecko and Books by Asher got me thinking.

Growing up in the 70s, kids (mostly boys) were constantly coming up with cruel nicknames for classmates, usually other boys. However, girls were not always spared. A couple of boys decided to call me “Popeye” in 5th or 6th grade because of my large eyes. I was so upset about it. I cried and cried. I think my mother finally intervened and spoke to a teacher (which was not her usual style), after the typical advice given to girls back then did not work: “They’re teasing you because they LIKE you” (worst advice ever!)

These memories made me think of the question Kamala Harris has been posing: What kind of a country do we want to be? It’s actually a great question.

Do we want to go back to the time when casual bullying, based on appearance/race/sexual orientation flowed like water from the tap? (If you grew up in the 70s and 80s, you know what I’m talking about.) Or do we want to live in a country where differences are celebrated and everyone feels included? DEI (short for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) should not be used as a slur. And it makes me sick that it’s being used that way against Harris.

I honestly think the cruelty is the point with Trump and his followers.

Image from Pexels

Bucket List

~ MaryG ~ 8 Comments
Daily writing prompt
What countries do you want to visit?
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Speaking of buckets…way to go Boston Celtics! 🏀☘️ NBA championship #18.

This morning’s Boston Globe

I started a Bucket List (I’ve heard some say “Life List”) in the notepad app on my phone a couple years ago. I update it whenever the mood strikes. Sometimes a TV show, movie or book will shake up the order. For example, I read a book called “Independent People” by Haldór Laxness (a Nobel prize winner in literature) which resulted in Iceland getting booted from my list.

Here’s the latest version:
Grand Canyon ✅
Paris ✅
Finger Lakes & Hot Air Balloon ✅
Tanglewood
Yellowstone National Park
Ireland
NYC comedy club or SNL
Southern Italy (Naples; Amalfi Coast; Cinque Terra) and maybe Sicily
Sweden
Return to Paris in warmer weather and see the sites we missed
Argentina?
Return to SoCal – LA/San Diego; Santa Monica; Venice Beach; Yosemite; Joshua Tree?
Key West
Austin TX
Greece
Acadia National Park

An image from my last trip to LA (you know, the city that’s won 17 NBA championships)
The year was 1988 and George H.W. Bush was on the ballot.

My friend Julie (the eventual artist) made sure we visited the Watts Towers in South Los Angeles.

The famous Watts Towers in LA—a renegade 33-year folk art project by Italian immigrant construction worker and tile mason Simon “Sam” Rodia
Apparently some part of it was closed that day, but we got the idea. It’s very cool—a labor of love.

Watts Towers State Park

Love Hurts

~ MaryG ~ 9 Comments
Daily writing prompt
Describe something you learned in high school.
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In high school, I learned the big lesson—the one that nearly everyone learns eventually. Love hurts.

I know they didn’t write it, but Nazareth did the cover that my generation knows best. It’s a power ballad like no other. 💔

Love Hurts

Love hurts, love scars
Love wounds and marks
Any heart
Not tough or strong enough
To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
Love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts

I’m young, I know, but even so
I know a thing or two
I learned from you
I really learned a lot, really learned a lot
Love is like a flame
It burns you when it’s hot
Love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts

Some fools think of happiness
Blissfulness, togetherness
Some fools fool themselves, I guess
They’re not foolin’ me

I know it isn’t true
I know it isn’t true
Love is just a lie
Made to make you blue
Love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts

I know it isn’t true
I know it isn’t true
Love is just a lie
Made to make you blue
Love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts
Ooh, ooh, love hurts
Ooh, ooh…

Source: Musixmatch

My high school class, senior year, 1983

OK Boomer

~ MaryG ~ 24 Comments
Daily writing prompt
How has technology changed your job?
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As a recently-retired GenX elder (born in 1965–the first official GenX year), I am going to use this prompt to tell you a couple of stories about how we did things at my first job. You will probably find these stories boring, but that’s life. Older people will tell you their stories (repeatedly), regardless of their audience’s level of interest.

In the late 1980s, we had computers on our desks but no email or internet. So, if you wanted to put something into writing for others to see, you had to type it up in a Word document and then print it out on a ridiculously slow printer. “Memos” were written up like business e-mails are today, with the date (which you had to figure out yourself—people were always putting the wrong year on their memos in January and February), a “TO” line, a “FROM” line, a “SUBJECT” line, and a “CC” line. After you wrote and printed your memo, you had to initial it and then make Xeroxes (old timers called them “mimeographs”). Then you ran around the office, leaving your memo on peoples’ desks. As you can imagine, memos were used strictly for covering your ass, because otherwise, you’d just tell your co-workers whatever you wanted them to know.

Some people (me included) spent a great deal of time chit-chatting with co-workers throughout the day. One guy I worked with “made the rounds” ALL afternoon. After lunch, he went from office to office, desk to desk, cubicle to cubicle, trading information and gossip. He knew everything about everyone, which was very valuable back then. One person that everyone knew they needed to be liked by was the boss’s assistant (we called them secretaries back then). If the boss’s secretary didn’t like you, you were fucked. I once made the HUGE mistake of taking the boss’s secretary’s gift away from her during a Yankee Swap holiday gift exchange (which was my right, per the rules of the game). It was a salad spinner and I wanted it, but so did she! It took me months to get back on her good side. The so-called “soft skills” (reading a room, communicating, putting people at ease, small talk, empathy) were very important back then. Excel spreadsheets were non-existent.

So that’s how we rolled in the late 1980s…and don’t call me Boomer.

The College Experience

~ MaryG ~ 17 Comments
Daily writing prompt
What experiences in life helped you grow the most?
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For me, there was no greater growth experience than college. The college experience is like no other. The sheer number of new people and new ideas you’re exposed to in a short timeframe is bound to change even the most “set in their ways” 18-year old.

I was lucky my parents paid the bills and my college had no core requirements whatsoever, so I could take whatever classes I wanted—from poetry to Russian history. (Amazingly, I didn’t take a single science class.) Throw in my semester abroad, internships, guest speakers, drug experimentation, and a winter trip to the Soviet Union, and it really was a mind-expanding time for me.

Hanging out in college: my roommates Ann and Carla and other friends in our on-campus apartment in 1984 or 85. The three of us shared one bedroom, but we had a nice living room and a kitchen.

It’s sad that the liveaway college experience has become so expensive and debt-producing. It’s not fair. I think the four-year model needs to go. Three years of college is plenty, and would be significantly cheaper. “Uni” – as they call it in the UK – is only three years. I mean, maybe a few select majors (like Engineering) need four years, but everyone else (Liberal Arts, Fine Arts, Business, etc.) could be done in three.

Speaking of the college experience, we went to see One Love, the Bob Marley biopic, based on DanLovesFilm’s recommendation (American critics be damned) and I had fun. There are definitely some weaknesses in the script and I had a hard time understanding the Jamaican/Rastafarian accent, but the music is the music and it’s great. Marley is played by Kingsley Ben-Adir and he’s 🔥

Kingsley Ben-Adir as Bob Marley

So, GenX: I recommend you have yourself a cocktail or a weed gummy (or both) and go see One Love. You’ll have a good time jamming in your theater seat to one of our key college soundtracks.

Related posts:

Legend

College: 80s edition

Semester Abroad

Back in the USSR

Ralph Nader