Email Poem

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Personal Note:
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Poem
I could write a poem of all the headlines, 
most influential people, and important events of the decade,
but instead, I’ll share with you some of my memories…
my first memories (when the decade ended, I was seven).
I remember our mustard yellow and avocado green furniture, 
watching Kroft Puppets, The Muppets, Captain Kangaroo,
Land of the Lost and Little House on the Prairie;
I remember music, lots of music – Dad playing drums
and taking me to concerts, Mom dancing (she loved the Rolling Stones).
Much of my favorite music is from the seventies… 
Andy Gibb was my favorite singer and Telephone Line was my favorite song;
which reminds me…I remember our telephone cord being so long,
we could walk from the kitchen to the living room while talking on it.
I remember the vacuum cleaner was HUGE. I thought it would eat me alive.
I could play 10 songs on the jukebox at Pizza Hut for a dollar, and 
the compartment stereo in my house was bigger than a jukebox. 
It seems everything was bigger in the seventies.
My mom’s Monte Carlo was huge….
I remember coloring a lot and playing board games.
A handheld pinball machine was the closest thing we had to a video game.
I loved tether ball, roller skating, riding my bike (no helmet),
playing outside (without the fear of being abducted), paper dolls,
my easy bake oven, monogrammed shirts (I thought I was Laverne),
clogs, patent leather sandals, ruffled socks, my Holly Hobby doll,
my troll dolls, my plastic record player, MY RECORDS;
I remember disco dancing with my older cousins – 
doing the Bump, the Hustle, the Funky Chicken… 

Many great memories, but not all... 
I remember people smoking everywhere even on airplanes, 
some in my own family; I remember the Miami race riots 
that started in 1979, seeing the smoke and not understanding;
I remember waiting in long gas lines, when Elvis was found dead,
Three Mile Island, my dad talking about friends who died in Vietnam,
tying yellow ribbons around our trees, and trying to understand 
concepts like divorce, hatred and death.
I hold onto the good memories much tighter.
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