Like other Boomers who are about to take the plunge, I can't believe that it was . . . (picture me covering my mouth and mumbling to myself) years since we did all that great stuff from marching against war and for civil/feminist rights, going door to door in support of Eugene McCarthy's run for President, discovering the Beatles, eating a lot of ice cream after imbibing on a Saturday night, experiencing the deaths of two Kennedys and Martin Luther King, saying "no" to just about everything our parents stood for, watching "Woodstock" and so wishing we'd been there, committing ourselves to our chosen professions but never hesitating to have a good time . . .
I often yearn for those times when everything seemed possible, when the naysayers were in the minority.
But we were more personally connected.
We were more optimistic.
We believed in change. (Not the b.s. we hear during every local/national political campaign.)
I could go on, but you get the point: The Sixties rocked. My sixties rocked.
If you have a suggestion for my new blog name, please send it my way.
Peace and love.