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And good luck!

I’ve been a television addict since 1955, when Captain Kangaroo’s weekday show first aired on our black and white television.

Fast forward to 2012, and I’m still parked in front of the tube daily (not all the time, but enough!).

Right now my favorite television show is fringe, and it’s in danger of being canceled due to low ratings.

So I’m spreading the word, trying to get other t.v. addicts like me to tune into Fringe tonight from 9-10 on FOX.

We’re back in the alternate universe tonight!

Thanks to awesome book blogger Jena, I’m going to be sharing some of my favorite books at Pure Textuality, and will let you all know when one of my reviews is posted.

It just doesn’t get any better for a book geek like me!

It was never a favorite of mine–too silly–but this clip has includes David Letterman and Tom Poston.

When I really wanted to live it up and have a good time, I read books.

I cannot remember how old I was when I got my first library card, but I remember holding my father’s hand as we walked up the stairs of the Rundel Public Library in Rochester, New York.

My favorite book, for many years, was “Make Way for Ducklings” by Robert McCloskey.

Here’s the synopsis from Barnes & Noble:

The busy Boston streets are too dangerous for eight little ducklings! But with a little help from a friendly policeman Mrs. Mallard and her family arrive safely at their new home. The public garden was no place for ducklings when they were first born, but now they are old enough to brave the raucous crowds and swim with the giant swan boats. Available for the first time in a full-size paperback edition, this Caldecott winning classic continues to delight generations of children

And here’s more:

The quaint story of the mallard family’s search for the perfect place to hatch ducklings. Once the ducklings learn to walk in a straight line, they stroll past famous Boston landmarks into the Public Garden. For more than fifty years kids have been entertained by this warm and wonderful story. It has been reissued in paper and packaged with an audiotape for the current generation. 1942 Caldecott Medal.

Photo credit

Sigh.

Those were the days.

It’s also Rocky and Bullwinkle.

I was born in 1949, so I did grow up on Howdy Doody, Captain Kangaroo, and I Love Lucy.

Those are the memories I cherish.

But of course there’s more, folks.

When I was very young, we had two sources of news: newspapers and the 6 o’clock news.

There was no cable television, no cell phones, and no Blackberries.

And no internet, of course.

At my house we got morning and afternoon newspapers, and we watched Walter Cronkite in the evening.

Things started changing the day that President Kennedy was assassinated.

For four days, television networks televised the ongoing story of Kennedy’s murder, including his funeral.

As the years went by, we watched the horror of the Kent State shootings, Viet Nam, Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, then Robert Kennedy’s murder.

My parents were blue collar workers, and they owned a home, had a new car every few years, and furnished us with 3 square meals a day.

A visit to the doctor cost a few bucks.

On Sunday, after a nice dinner, we (me, my brother, and our parents) got in the car and took a ride out to “the country” where we enjoyed the scenery. During the summer, we stopped at fruit stands, then got an ice cream cone before going home to bath and bed.

The pipeline of news and information was slower and not always in living color.

It was a different time, and I think that as humans we were able to live, work, and love with a marvelous sense of detachment from the horrors that life can inflict.

Things like wars and reports of missing children always happened to “other people,” or so we told ourselves.

Being a Baby Boomer is about more than being born after World War II and watching Howdy Doody.

It’s about growing up in a world that has changed with a speed that is at times exciting (when considering technology), and at times absolutely frightening (e.g., watching an airplane fly, on purpose, into buildings occupied by thousands of people).

Here’s a neat blog: Feisty Side of Fifty/Baby boomer Women.

And here’s a blogger, FortRight, who defines a Baby boomer as “anyone born after the war who watched the original Howdy Doody show. Period. End of discussion.”

What a hoot!

I’m going to get back to my drug right now.

Between Gustav and Sarah Palin’s pregnant teenager daughter, there’s a lot to keep up with.

Sorry, Howdy Doody, you are so yesterday

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This is not a “poor me,” or an “angry old bitch” post.

It’s simply my way of working through the losses that come with aging.

My teeth are getting bad.

I need to lose about 30 more pounds (but my doctor would be happy with a 50 pound loss), I need both knees replaced, and I use an asthma inhaler 3-4 times a week in the rainy weather of Seattle.

At my age, a hot night is one in which I must use a fan or air conditioning.

A hot date is an evening cuddled on the couch with four of my grandchildren (#5 is grown up and with her significant other, another grandchild is with her mother in NY, but that’s another post).

I’ve got high blood pressure and will probably be taking medication soon.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way, because that’s life, my friends.

We’re born, we live, we die.
I’ve got a family that loves me, an employer that has moved heaven and earth to keep me working for him, and a landlady that thinks I’m pretty cool to have in her home.

Every day when the alarm goes off, I’m able to get out of bed under my own steam.

I’ve been able to grieve for and accept my past, and I’ve kicked abusive, controlling people out of my life for good.

I’ve learned, finally, that each day is a precious gift to be treasured, absorbed, and set aside to make way for the next golden twenty-four hours.

So, it’s official: I’m getting old.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I wasn’t working that first summer, so I went to the library a lot, in order to catch up on my reading, and to enjoy some movies.

Mom and I had both seen this 1983 miniseries when it, and we enjoyed it all over again during our first summer in Seattle.

Thanks to Netflix, I’m going to watch this again, think of my mom, and enjoy a good story.