Child of the Fifties
These folks were the epitomes of every her and him.
The men were all smooth-shaven with haircuts short and trim.
The ladies of the fifties had their pearls and curly hair,
and fancy little house dresses were what they chose to wear.
Their kids were the epitomes of reproductive joy
who could serve as patterns for the perfect girl or boy.
They came out cute and perfect, created just to please.
They never fought or cheated or brought home F’s or D’s.
How do I know that what I say is not stretching the truth?
How do I know these folks were all red-blooded, honest, couth;
and that every one of them maintained the status quo?
I know for I’m the perfect child that sits in the front row
who somehow by the sixties got somewhat out of step
and later by the seventies had misplaced all her “hep,”
did not become a hippie until nineteen eighty seven,
and will join the moral majority too late to get to heaven.
I am not the epitome of any group you know.
I do not wear the clothes you wear or go where you may go.
Epitome’s a talent that I forgot to hone,
and ever since I’ve chosen a pattern all my own.
So, thanks to Forgottenman for reminding me it is time for SOCS. Today the inspirational word is “curl.”
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Love your looking sideways at the crowd of sober kin! I have two photos of my aunt & granddaughter looking sideways to make an independant decision to “be my own person,” & not conform like the rest of them. Yours seemed more like you were curious and wanted to see them!
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Yes.. Although these were neighbors and friends, my parents didn’t go to their parties. My mother’s beloved brother was an alcoholic and my mother made my father promise he would not drink before she’d agree to marry him. Therefore, they didn’t go to parties where alcohol was served. Later on, when I was in college, my mother started having a drink with us but my dad never touched alcohol for the rest of his life. So, that said, this was an unusual occurence and I was interested in what was going on.
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Brilliant as ever
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Love the photo and the poem, Judy! It’s a good thing that you have chosen your own pattern in life. Too often, we feel we have to follow a prescribed path and conform to certain looks or a certain lifestyle. It’s freeing to step out of it.
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I don’t know why I did.. Just being the third girl in a family and wanting to somehow forge a path not completely patterned on theirs. I guess.
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This photo surely does scream the ’50s to me. I love that you’ve chosen your own path. It sounds like you love who you are and that’s wonderful.
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I’m glad I did, too. I’m not totally pleased with who I am now. Wish I were in better physical condition, but few regrets from my past.
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I think all of us have something we’d rather was different. I’m with you on the physical condition part. Over the years I’ve rolled in and out of being committed to working out. I’ve been in an off stage for a while now🤦🏻♀️
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This is great!
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And you are even out of step in that photo … looking away from the camera….. Stay different 💜💜💜
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Okay, if you insist!!!
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i do 💜💜
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Are you really the girl in the first row who turns her head? You are a perpetual subversive element, just like me, dear Judy.
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Yes I am she. Wouldn’t it be nice if we lived closer to each other so we could join forces?
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