Blast From The Past

A nostalgic glimpse into some of the crazy and unbelievable adventures and times of growing up in the 1960s and 1970s.

That era was one of the most eclectic decades. We twisted and tango-hustled to the world’s grooviest musicians, moving like greased lightning. We were into awe-inspiring fashion trends like bell-bottoms, hot pants, unbuttoned shirts down to the navel, knee-high leather boots, and tube socks. Shaggy mops, untamed tresses, fringes, and other hairstyles were epic. Not to mention the swag we wore in those platform shoes.

Life was not perfect back then, but it was simpler and less complicated than it is now. We were taught the concept of ‘trial and error,’ and we were allowed to play unsupervised and be daring at our own risk. There was no room for negotiation because our parents expected us to be responsible and accountable for everything we did. There was no such thing as helicopter parenting, and there were no social media, magazines, blogs, or other apps to keep us in check.  Everything was fair game, once we were on all fours!

To give an example, if I stuck my finger into a power outlet, my parents would say, ‘once she gets a shock, she won’t do it again.’ I’d yank my arm back, feel a buzz, hear a sizzle, and then collapse. Then, in the background, I’d hear a faint whisper, “she’s now grounded and will never try it again.”

It’s a miracle that we’re still alive! It was unheard of to child-proof the house and adhere to safety standards. Fortunately for our parents, they were not charged with ‘child neglect’ nor were the ‘Child Protection Authorities’ called or come knocking on their doors.

We made it through car rides without seat belts or baby seats. We were either placed on someone’s lap or, if we were alone in the car with mom or dad, we were in the front seat, and if they had to jam the brakes, they would fling their arm in front of us. We didn’t fly out the windows, but we did suffer whiplash and a head bump.

When we rode our bikes, skateboards, and rollerblades, we didn’t wear helmets. Being seen in one of them was definitely not cool. If you’re wondering how we got through them all, I’ll let you in on a little secret. God has been kind and endowed that generation’s children with a natural ability to deal with concussions. I have no idea how many concussions I’ve had. I’m just glad I made it!

We would wander outside by ourselves, play all day and return home when the streetlights came on. No one could reach us throughout the day. We were ok, and we turned out just fine. I believe our parents were willing to risk our kidnapping because they were confident we would be returned.

We had playdates every day, and there were no organized events for us kids to get together. When it comes to playground nostalgia, it brings back beautiful memories, and they were the best! We were daredevils!

We’d grab the metal bar and run as fast as we could, spinning the merry-go-round. We’d hop on it while it was spinning, our heads already dizzy. Let us not even consider what might have happened if we had lost our footing.

It was thrilling to swing on these swings. We used to swing so high that the poles almost lifted themselves off the ground. We imagined ourselves being able to “tickle the sky with our toes and hear the clouds laugh.” We’d sit, stand, swing in pairs, and jump off when we got to the top.

I’m surprised we didn’t break any bones while swinging on seesaws. We’d push down so hard that the one on the other end flew off and straight into the air. At times, we’d get off the seesaw, and the other end would come crashing down. That wasn’t very nice, and it doesn’t sound like fun anymore!

We had towering, scorching-hot metal slides.  We’d get third-degree burns on our backsides and legs. On the plus side, it helped a few of us overcome our fear of heights.

Despite the fact that the playground equipment was rough and rusted, none of us received a tetanus shot. We did fall off a few of them, breaking bones and teeth, but there were no complaints, no trips to the emergency room, and no lawsuits were filed. The equipment was designed to withstand military strikes and last indefinitely.

Our weekend mornings were reserved for popular children’s shows. Our TV boxes and their reception were unreliable. When we switched the TV on and got these zig-zag lines, we had to turn the antenna in every possible direction until the picture came into focus. It was strange because sometimes when we removed our hands from the antenna, it caused the image to disappear again.

Weekends fly by, and I start to dread going back to school. The 5-day school week was a stretch.

These Bata white canvas shoes evoke cheeky memories. If I hadn’t polished my shoes the night before, I’d rub white chalk on them. Voila! they looked as good as new and were noticeably whiter.

Pencil boxes and geometry boxes were prized possessions of a select few. The contents of the boxes were neatly placed inside if you were serious about learning and wanted to appear to be the most organized and intelligent student in the class. For the rest of us, we had erasers stabbed with pencils, the metal end with the pencil rubbers chewed up, and our fountain pen leaking dark blue ink. That’s pretty messed up!

Remember these things?

The black phone we had at home,  identical to everyone else’s. Hello, we used it to talk to each other. The dial on the base has ten dial hole numbers, a twisted chord that could only be stretched so far. There were no private conversations especially with the entire family waiting their turn and mother, who had eyes in the back of her head and ears that could detect even the faintest of signals.

The Polaroid cameras were exciting because we could capture instant pictures. The picture slid out the moment we clicked, and we would vigorously shake it as if air drying was the only way to get the clearest image.

Our ultimate visual world!

Sugary treats were plentiful. The Candy Cigarettes that resembled cigarettes in a box were fun when we wanted to look and act all mature. Poppins were candies in every colour of the rainbow and flavours of a wide variety of  fruits. The best ones would be saved for last.  The deliciously cool and refreshing Polo Peppermints were a favourite of all. The mint with a hole!

The gold coin chocolates were a rare treat. I enjoyed slowly peeling back the foil and letting the rich-tasting chocolate melt in my mouth.  I also loved the Mackintosh Quality Street chocolate box with each chocolate with a different colour wrapper, flavor, shape, and size. The Mango Bites were, without a doubt, the best candy ever.

I loved my summer vacations when we drove to our grandparents’ house. It was a long drive in the timeless Ambassador. Mom would keep all of our bags in the back seat’s leg space and lay a wooden plank on top of the bags so we could stretch our legs. I didn’t have any distractions like iPads or smartphones, so I’d spent my time annoying my siblings, reading, sleeping, playing board games, mom asking us questions from the Bournvita Quiz Books, and more.

There is so much more to the 1960s and 1970s that I may need to write a sequel. However, I’m sure you all have plenty of stories to share that will transport us back to a time that is now only a distant memory.

It’s very nostalgic! “You’ll never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory,” as the saying goes.