The Before Generation

 

A Different World, But in Many Ways The Best of Times!

I thought it might be fun to help you recall the time when you were young and foolish.  We're going to use 1938, as the mythical year for remembering.  Were you in high school then? In college? Married? Employed?

1938 was before the pill, before TV and VCRs, before penicillin, polio shots, antibiotics and frisbees...before radar, fluorescent lights, credit cards and ball point pens.  Before frozen foods, nylon, dacron, Zerox, and the Kinsey report.  We had Schaeffer, Parker and Esterbrook fountain pens with real ink and wore stockings made of pure silk with seams that refused to stay straight.

For us time-sharing meant togetherness - not a condo; a chip meant a piece of wood, hardware meant hardware; and software wasn't even a word.

We were before nuclear fission.

Girls were forbidden to wear slacks to school.  We were also before panty hose and drip-dry clothes.  Before ice makers and dishwashers and clothes dryers, freezers and electric blankets.

Hawaii and Alaska hadn't become part of the United States.  Schools were not integrated.

We were before men wore long hair and earrings and women wore tuxedos.

We were before yogurt, Ann Landers, plastics, hair dryers, the 40-hour work week and the minimum wage.  We got married first and then lived together - how quaint can you be?

Bunnies were small rabbits and were not Volkswagens.  We were before Grandma Moses and Frank Sinatra.  We wore Peter Pan collars and long skirts and twin sweater sets.  We were before Batman, Grapes of Wrath, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Snoopy.  Before DDT and vitamin pills, disposable diapers, Jeeps and the Jefferson Memorial and the Jefferson nickel.

When we were in school, pizzas, Cheerios, frozen orange juice, instant coffee and McDonald's were unheard of.  We thought fast food was what you ate during Lent.  We were before lite beer and wine coolers.  We were before FM radio, tape recorders, electric typewriters, word processors, electronic music, disco dancing, yoga, aerobics, jogging and hot tubs.  Levi blue jeans were work clothes.

Forty-eight years ago grass was mowed, coke was something you drank and pot was something you cooked in.  We were before day care centers, house husbands, baby sitters, computer dating, dual careers and commuter marriages.  The term "making out" referred to how well you did on an exam.

Unheard of were coin-vending machines, jet planes, helicopters, space shuttles, sky labs, rockets and astronauts.

In our time, 5 and 10 cents stores sold things for 5 and 10 cents.  For a nickel you could buy a coke, ride a bus or make a phone call.  You could buy a Chevy for $659, but who could afford it? Nobody! And a pity, too, as gas was only 11; per gallon.  Stamps were 3; and we had the penny post card.

If anybody had asked us to explain CIA, MX, NATO, UFO, NFL, SATs, JFK, BMW, ERA, Ms., or IUD, we would have said alphabet soup.

We were before sex changes - we made do with what we had.  We were the last generation to think you needed a husband to have a baby.

We had hats with white gloves, white tablecloths and linen napkins.  We also had girdles with garters on them and petticoats.  We had goldfish eating contests.

We mailed our laundry home in cardboard containers and they came back with brownies in them.  We had all the big bands like Tommy Dorsey, Glenn Miller, Guy Lombardo and Shepp Fields.

We were before automatic drive, talking cars and talking birthday cards.  We were before freeways, toll roads and interstate highways.

We played thick 78 records with cactus needles that always needed sharpening.  We had Edward the VIII and saddle shoes and cars with rumble seats.  And when we heard the song "The Very Thought of You" or "Goodnight Sweetheart" we could understand the words.

In the springtime of my senility, I am a misfit.  I don't go for consciousness raising or sensitivity training.  I don't like to jog.  I don't know how to pump my own gas.  My legs are white and my stockings are brown - when the opposite is in>In the springtime of my senility, I am a misfit.  I don't go for consciousness raising or sensitivity training.  I don't like to jog.  I don't know how to pump my own gas.  My legs are white and my stockings are brown - when the opposite is in style.  I'm not into veggies or Yoga or Zen or Punk.  My idea of a good time is a walk with a man - not a jog with a walkman.

I seek silence in a day when silence is as rare as a Gutenberg Bible.  The man I live with is my husband and after 45 years, he's still the only one.

Haven't we come a long way? And isn't it wonderful.

Leonard Aalgaard

Source:  Hannaford Area History North Dakota Centennial 1889 - 1989 Page 254