My "Me" Decade
The '70s were my "Me" decade, the cultural pot in which I stewed, brewed, and eventually blossomed. I remember my life being ruled by TV back then, whether it was the incredible selection of TV shows (the comparison to the sitcoms that are on TV right now make me want to heave), those fantastic "Movies of the Week" in which I saw Dennis Weaver outwit a psychotic truck driver and unknowingly witness Stephen Spielberg make his directiorial debut. And where I first saw Nick Nolte in the incredible adaptation of "Rich Man Poor Man", one of the first mini-series (if not the first) ever aired.
Archie Bunker, Mary Tyler Moore, Rhoda Morgenstern, Karl Kolchak, Richie Cunningham, the Partridges, the Bradfords and, my ultimate favourites, the Bradys, were some of my closest friends. Of course I wanted to be Marcia. Of course I thought Greg was cute. Keith Partridge was the hottest though. No doubt about that.
Plus, the music. Alice Cooper, Styx, Supertramp, Pink Floyd, Yes, Genesis ... I listened to it all as I tried in vain to feather my hair the way the other girls did, tried to squeeze myself in vain into tight Sergio Valente jeans. I proudly proclaimed "Disco sucks!" along with all the other rock rebels, while secretly thinking the Bee Gees and John Travolta were pretty damn good.
The books that reared me through those years were a combination of sword and sorcery epics like Lord of the Rings and tearstained teen paperbacks by Judy Blume and Paul Zindel. Yes, Margaret, God is there. The Pigman, I adore you. And I don't care if you step on my eyeball, I love you anyway.
The movies: those great 70s crime movies like The French Connection, The Godfather and Serpico (oh, Al, you God you) ... Jack Nicholson at his absolute pinnacle in The Last Detail (so hilarious!), Five Easy Pieces and, of course, Cuckoo's Nest.
What a fantastic library of memories I have to draw from, what a wonderful roster of inspiration. God, the world was different back then. Am I deluded to think that it was a lot simpler, nicer, innocent? Or is that just me remembering all those childhood feelings of awe and excitement soaking everything in like a sponge?
Granted, when my daughter watches the Powerpuff Girls now, I think they're pretty cool. I love those chicks. But it's so different than the cartoons I grew up watching: the Flintstones and Bugs Bunny. I must be getting old. I actually hear those words my parents used to say to me on the tip of my own tongue now: "You just wait until you get a little older, then you'll find out", or "You kids don't appreciate anything" or "When I was your age ..."
Archie Bunker, Mary Tyler Moore, Rhoda Morgenstern, Karl Kolchak, Richie Cunningham, the Partridges, the Bradfords and, my ultimate favourites, the Bradys, were some of my closest friends. Of course I wanted to be Marcia. Of course I thought Greg was cute. Keith Partridge was the hottest though. No doubt about that.
Plus, the music. Alice Cooper, Styx, Supertramp, Pink Floyd, Yes, Genesis ... I listened to it all as I tried in vain to feather my hair the way the other girls did, tried to squeeze myself in vain into tight Sergio Valente jeans. I proudly proclaimed "Disco sucks!" along with all the other rock rebels, while secretly thinking the Bee Gees and John Travolta were pretty damn good.
The books that reared me through those years were a combination of sword and sorcery epics like Lord of the Rings and tearstained teen paperbacks by Judy Blume and Paul Zindel. Yes, Margaret, God is there. The Pigman, I adore you. And I don't care if you step on my eyeball, I love you anyway.
The movies: those great 70s crime movies like The French Connection, The Godfather and Serpico (oh, Al, you God you) ... Jack Nicholson at his absolute pinnacle in The Last Detail (so hilarious!), Five Easy Pieces and, of course, Cuckoo's Nest.
What a fantastic library of memories I have to draw from, what a wonderful roster of inspiration. God, the world was different back then. Am I deluded to think that it was a lot simpler, nicer, innocent? Or is that just me remembering all those childhood feelings of awe and excitement soaking everything in like a sponge?
Granted, when my daughter watches the Powerpuff Girls now, I think they're pretty cool. I love those chicks. But it's so different than the cartoons I grew up watching: the Flintstones and Bugs Bunny. I must be getting old. I actually hear those words my parents used to say to me on the tip of my own tongue now: "You just wait until you get a little older, then you'll find out", or "You kids don't appreciate anything" or "When I was your age ..."
posted by emily pound at 9:12 AM
1 Comments:
Jack Tripper rocks! :-) We miss you, Mr. Ritter.
Glad you enjoyed the post, floradora girl. I don't know, to me, the world seemed a LOT different back then. There wasn't as much technology, things seemed a lot more home-oriented ... with women's lib and stuff like that the 50s mentality was starting to disappear but not entirely. (sigh) I get really sentimental sometimes.
still, my childhood seems to have been spent 50% at school and the other 50% in front of the TV.
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