The following is taken from the blog site Petticoats & Pistols, the original comment from author Laura Drake (women’s fiction & romance). I thought this was a great idea for my own blog, and I welcome your own “Where I’m From” comments! The questionnaire form is shown below if you want a guide to use.
I am from the days of Spam, Hills Bros. coffee and Hamm’s Beer. The days of drinking right out of the hose, listening to a big, furniture-style radio and staring at it as though it were a TV (which we didn’t have), setting up “tents” in the back yard with my sister by throwing blankets over the clothesline and securing the edges with rocks.
I am from a time when two little girls of only 8 or 9 years old would get on their bikes and ride far from home and go play in orchards or the woods by themselves with no thought to anything bad happening. As long as we were home by supper time, that was okay. And, of course, there were no cell phones, so no communication. We never gave safety a second thought and never once felt unsafe.
I am from big, untrimmed lilac bushes and unwatered lawns, gravel driveways and lots of dirt roads. Houses had big front porches with porch swings, and the family actually sat out there evenings and talked to each other. I am from a time when there were no interstate highways, and gas stations were very small, but men would come out to pump your gas for you, check your oil and clean your windshield.
I am from a time when people dressed up for everything – suits and hats and fancy dresses and heels and furs at baseball games and on airline trips. Women didn’t wear jeans/pants, and they always wore nylon stockings, usually with a seam up the back of their legs that they were always adjusting in the mirror to keep them straight.
I am from an era when entertainers truly entertained, with good voices, true talent, and beautiful, tasteful dresses and suits, and you could actually understand the words to the songs. You never knew by the way they dressed if they had great legs or big breasts, and male singers didn’t constantly grab their crotches.
I am from a time when people dressed up respectfully for church – no jeans and t-shirts with logos on them. You were there for GOD and PRAYER, not to blast your political or even sexual beliefs to others. Church was GOD’S HOUSE.
I am from (literally) LaPorte, Indiana, where my father worked in a bomb factory during WWII. In that same era, food and gasoline and just about everything else was rationed. The government issued rationing stamps and you were allowed only so much of certain products per month. Nylon stockings were rare, if available at all. The nylon was needed for parachutes and other needs of the Armed Forces.
I am Sicilian and Irish, and I was born in an era when it was hard for my Italian father to find housing because landlords automatically considered him “Mafia.” He was the nicest, gentlest man I’ve ever known, and he never owned a gun.
I am from riding in the back of pickup trucks with no worry about getting a ticket, the era of no seat belts and of rumble seats. I am from jumping rope and of bicycles with big tires – saddle shoes and poodle skirts – “real” rock ‘n roll – the “Twist” – Root Beer stands – hula hoops – and using soup cans for rollers (and I remember actually going out in public with rollers in my hair!). I am from the days of “going steady,” and sex didn’t have to be a part of dating. Bibles were allowed in schools, and we even had a minister who came around to different schools and told Bible stories to youngsters.
I am from an era of R-E-S-P-E-C-T – for God and country, for religion, for education, for the police and people of authority, for other people’s property and beliefs, for the right to vote, for old people, for not using four-letter words in music and comedy, for politicians, for teachers, and for personal appearance – an era when manners and “thank-you’s” and “sir” and “Ma’am” were used often. We always said the Pledge of Allegiance, and if we in any way disrespected the flag or the National Anthem, we would be sent to the principal’s office and probably taken to the woodshed when we got home. But that didn’t matter because NO ONE ever disrespected the flag.
I am from an era when people worked hard to earn what they had. They didn’t expect the government to take care of them, an era when people willingly and with true compassion donated to causes to help those in need – and if a young person would see an old person having trouble crossing the street, the young person would HELP them – not laugh at them.
I am from the era of big, all-steel, V-8, muffler-rumbling “hot” cars and hotrods, “cruising” through town with the convertible top down, “whitewall” tires, big hood ornaments, and blasting the “top 40” tunes on the radios.
I am from an era of fun and respect - and hope for the future.
THE “WHERE I’M FROM” TEMPLATE:
I am from ______________(item/product)
I am from ______________(home description)
I am from ______________(family tradition/trait)
I am from ______________(childhood experiences/beliefs)
I am from ______________(religion/patriotic/education)
I am from ______________(ancestry)
I am from ______________(story/habits from the past)
I am from ______________(what life was like)
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