There are phases in history that come or go. I remember the time when it was a weekly occurrence of someone hijacking a plane and going to Cuba. I remember the trepidation of the Muriel Boat flotilla coming in from Cuba.
I remember the marches of long ago. Change was in the air alongside the gas of smoke bombs.
I remember the serial killers who stalked us. The Manson Trial, the Zodiac Killer, and the campus killer in Florida. I had friends who had children at the school. They were terrified.
I remember the first three D movies. The Wax Museum was one of them and they had a yoyo coming out of the screen towards the audience. Charles Bronson was in that one but under his real name.
I remember the first Oceans Eleven. I think we are up to fourteen.
I remember a wooden fixture above the sink in our apartment in Brooklyn where we could hang clothes to drip dry.
I remember chicken fat in the refrigerator to cook with.
I remember t.v. diners and that strange stuff they had for desert.
I remember when the astronauts landed on the moon for the first time. We watched and looked for aliens.
I remember John Wayne and loved his movies even though they are basically the same.
I remember going to movies and seeing two feature films, five cartoons and a serial episode and all for less than a buck. I remember going in with a bag of food and spending hours there.
I do not remember a time when the world was at real peace. There was always something. The Cuban Missile Crisis, the Cold War, the Vietnam conflict. Buildings crashing on 9-11, the assassination of Kennedy. Teaching for twenty seven years in Middle School, eight years at college, summer school teaching, and the stroke that I suffered through eleven years ago.
It has flown by. Ups and downs. That my friends is life. You have a choice. Embrace it and go on, or depress it in a quagmire of sadness. For myself I laugh and march on.