Boomer Journey…

Behold our lust for the great outdoors, which comes with the annual onset of springtime.

The aroma.

The way the air feels.

Being outside for the first time in months.

The Spring thaw…

Welcome to the approach of summer heat and humidity.

Didn’t mean to remind you but it is coming.

Springtime is an emotional awakening that can be challenging to define. I believe it is something different for everyone. When I was growing up in the Mid-Atlantic a lifetime ago, springtime was euphoric for me. After being couped up in the house all winter and chomping at the bit to get outside and play, the air was refreshing and the aroma sweet. Both offered hope and promise as the future awaited. Best we didn’t see the future.

How did springtime affect your youth?

Springtime wasn’t always euphoric for everyone. Schoolyard bullies always managed to surface in spring – on the playground and in gym class. Green pollen dust accumulated all over our cars and patio furniture. It made us sneeze. For some, springtime was a reminder of what was gone or what used to be. At times, it made us grieve for who was no longer with us.

Springtime is the darnedest element now isn’t it?

The change of seasons invokes emotions that come primarily with a change of temperature, the angle of the sun, the timing of sunrise and sunset, and undoubtedly where we are in our journey around the sun. There are elements in the universe that affect our emotions we’re completely unaware of.

With each passing day – the sun’s journey across the sky became either shorter or longer with the change of seasons when we were growing up. Autumn offered an acute sense of finality – the end of another year and the anticipation of a new.

Seems more people die in the fall and winter than in springtime. The experts say January is the deadliest month according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta. Too many of us old folks fall down and can’t get up. Other wintertime months like February and March rank second and third. December – the holidays – is fourth.

It is true we tend to get the blues as the sun retreats in autumn, which becomes more apparent in the fall and winter, especially once the holidays pass. According to the American Psychiatric Association, at least five percent of us experience seasonal depression, which I suppose comes from the absence of sunlight and the timing of sunrise and sunset. I know folks who become very depressed in the fall, which is caused by shorter days and coming home in the dark.

Living in Southern California, I am less affected by fall and winter because both are different here in California’s Southland. Changes of season are more subtle here, yet the solar and lunar patterns really stand out on the open desert. In the end, the changes of seasons do affect the way people feel whether it is spring or fall.

Autumn tends to put people in a negative frame of mind, with an adverse effect on appetite and sleep patterns. Autumn makes people want to nap and sleep. If it is cloudy, there’s a strong desire to fall asleep to an old movie or classic sitcom. What’s more, those pesky projects can wait until spring. These are the same projects we said could wait until winter – right?

If you would like to correspond – I have a new email address and would be happy to hear from you: jimsmart.jbjmediagroup@yahoo.com.

It must have been challenging to live the secrets, fantasies, and magic of classic sitcoms like I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, Mister Ed, My Mother The Car, and My Favorite Martian.

How do you explain something like a genie in a bottle, a talking horse, a Martian turned uncle, a wife with magical powers, or a mother reincarnated as a 1928 Porter automobile?

How does anyone explain what cannot be explained logically? Of course, these popular sitcoms were all about fantasy, raw imagination, and to some degree – sexual tension, while trying not to look insane. These sitcoms were nothing new at the time. This type of fantasy had been done before on the big screen. If I think hard enough, it was probably done in the 1950s on the small screen.

The movie Harvey, which was rolled out in 1950 starring James Stewart and Josephine Hull, was a comedy based on Mary Chase’s 1944 play of the same title. This post-war flick focused on a character named Elwood P. Dowd whose best friend was an invisible, imaginary six-foot tall bunny rabbit, which put his sister in the position of having him committed to a mental institution. As you might imagine, Elwood took his imaginary friend around to the bars and other public venues introducing “Harvey” to nearly everyone who eventually accepts Harvey’s presence.

The difference between Harvey and these popular network sitcoms was Elwood hung “Harvey” out there for everyone to see what no one could see. Harvey wasn’t a secret. In I Dream of Jeannie, only two characters knew about the main character – Jeannie (actress Barbara Eden). Two young NASA astronauts, Tony Nelson (Larry Hagman) and Roger Healy (Bill Daily), knew about Jeannie after Nelson captured her bottle on a deserted island after the splashdown of Stardust One.

This successful NBC/Screen Gems television series began with Astronaut Tony spotting a colorful bottle rolling across the beach sand to meet him. Tony popped the top, rubbed the bottle, and out came Barbara Eden (Jeannie), changing Nelson’s life significantly.

I Dream of Jeannie was a dreamy magical sitcom birthed by writer and author Sidney Sheldon, with Barbara Eden as a stunning 2,000-year-old genie along with fictional astronaut Larry Hagman she fell in love with and ultimately married in the final season. She gave him a kiss, which undoubtedly drove men crazy from coast to coast who desired a piece of the action. Astronaut Roger Healey, being Tony’s best friend, was the only other character who knew about Jeannie. The two kept a bizarre secret for five seasons and 139 episodes.

“A horse is a horse, of course-of course…” has to be one of the funniest sitcoms in television history. It began with the immortal words, “It’s been a long time since I was a pony…” in Episode 1 of Mister Ed in 1961 followed by “I talk only to you…” to his new owner, Wilbur Post, in the five seasons to follow. Wilbur found himself in a variety of awkward situations, some quite embarrassing, in which he could not explain who he was talking to as friends would walk up.

It would be easy to wonder where the concept of a talking horse would have come from. Like a number of television shows and movies, Mister Ed came from a collection of short stories known as “The Talking Horse” by Walter R. Brooks written for children in the 1930s. It took a producer like Arthur Lubin to bring “The Talking Horse” to television some three decades later. Mister Ed never caved on his commitment to speaking only to Wilbur, which kept audiences laughing for five seasons. My favorite part was the Studebaker Lark coupe in an age when new Studebaker automobiles were fading away. The long-standing car company would be gone by 1966, timed with the wrap-up of Mister Ed.

Bewitched was yet another fantasy sitcom in a decade of weird, bizarre sitcoms that kept American audiences laughing for eight seasons. Like Jeannie, Bewitched was a series where only one mortal knew who she was along with a cast of witch-in-law types who kept the show endlessly entertaining. Talents like Agnes Moorehead, Bernard Fox, Alice Ghostly, Marion Lorne, Paul Lynde, Maurice Evans, and a host of others kept us transfixed to the screen. Did you know Hanna-Barbera produced Bewitched’s opening and closing animation?

Bewitched ran from 1964 to 1972 before it wrapped up in a new decade when viewers were longing for something fresh. Bewitched never really ended any more than other fiercely popular sitcoms did. These shows have remained in syndication in the decades since. Nostalgia networks like TVLand, MeTV, RetroTV, Cozi TV, and Antenna TV and others have kept the spirit alive for Boomers who want to retreat from today’s chaotic and troubling news broadcasts and relive the magic of television from more than a half century ago.

It is springtime and cabin fever abounds.

I haven’t lived in four seasons in three decades. I’ve always lived in the Midwest and the East, which have traditional four seasons. In Southern California, we have two seasons – hot and cold – and somewhere in between. It is not uncommon to have a heat wave here in January or sudden cold in June. The locals here in Los Angeles call this phenomenon June Gloom.

Though I have been living in the desert Southwest for a long time, I have a longing for the sweet aroma of clover and honeysuckle in springtime which we don’t have here. When I was growing up in my native Maryland and Virginia, these were smells and sounds in the air that made me feel alive again. Yet, I can’t tell you what those smells and sounds were.

As I write this, it is chilly here on the Southern California high desert though there have been some warm days. Yet – I vividly remember the mid-Atlantic in spring when Mother Nature, which had been sleeping for months, was awakening and bursting with life. Trees were budding, grass was on the grow, crickets and tree frogs were beginning to sing, and lawnmowers in the neighborhood were beginning to sound. I remember how alive I felt as an adolescent in spring. We had been couped up all winter and house dust was getting the best of us kids. There was a huge sense of freedom and the great outdoors.

Have you ever noticed how dead the air sounds in winter? Because cold air is dense, it tends to muffle the ambient sounds around us. Traffic sounds distant in a dull roar. If children are outside at all, you can barely hear them playing. In that dead of winter, you don’t hear the sounds of nature – birds, tree frogs, crickets, and Blue Jays bullying other birds out of their nests.

Seems Mother Nature is in hibernation.

Summer yields its own array of unique sounds. As summer heat and humidity settle into the dog days of summer back in the Mid-Atlantic, the sounds of nature develop a familiarity. Whenever we began to hear “Katydids,” we knew the start of school was but a few weeks away. We also understood cold weather was just around the corner.

The Forest Preserve District of Will County in Joliet, Illinois tells us these crooning insects make themselves heard all across the area. It goes on to say these singing insects are cicadas, crickets, grasshoppers and Katydids in which the males produce loud calls in their search for a female mate – according to the University of Florida. These seasonal sounds may just be a loud “din” to most of us, however, each sound is unique to each species.

It may interest you to know Katydids, grasshoppers and crickets are all closely related according to the Forest Preserve District – belonging to the order Orthoptera, while cicadas belong to the order Homoptera. Who knew?

It goes on to say the Orthoptera insects — the Katydids, crickets and grasshoppers — typically produce sounds by rubbing one body part against another, which is known as “stridulation,” according to “Songs Of Insects.” Crickets rub structures on their wings together to produce their call per “The Singing Insects of the Chicago Region” by author Carl Strang. Male grasshoppers are able to produce sound by rubbing a hind leg against a forewing. Katydids make their traditional sound by rubbing their forewings together.

I did not know that… 

These folks versed on the subject go on to say, “Cicadas have sound organs called ‘tymbals,’ which have a series of ribs that can buckle onto one another when the cicada flexes its muscles. The buckling creates a clicking noise, and the combined effect of these clicks is the buzzing sound cicadas make.”

Even if you don’t know what you’re talking about, you might be able to tell the difference between some of these insect calls. Crickets, as one example, have more musical sounding calls because of their low frequency, according to the Forest Preserve District. Katydids and grasshoppers have a higher pitch call in varying frequencies.

When we settle into those first chilly days and the sweet aroma of woodsmoke and the sound of Trick or Treaters, one begins to wonder where the sounds and smell of summer went.

What’s in a number and how do numbers affect our daily lives?

Answer?

Plenty….

Numbers really are an emotional issue – especially when you consider how often we use them. How often do you look at a clock, watch, calculator, or your cell phone?

Doing your taxes? Lots of numbers there.

Did you just tell your grandchildren when to be home?

Yeah….I thought so…

Each of the ten basic numbers 0 through 9, has a personality. Whenever I see the Number 9, I think Channel 9, CBS and our local affiliate back home in Washington, D.C. – WTOP back in the day, now WUSA, which is what it has been for decades.

From a clinical standpoint, numbers are little more than mathematical in scope. We use them to count, measure, label, chart time, and more. Around the world, numbers take on different symbols such as Roman numerals like we were taught in school. Do you know schools are not teaching Roman numerals anymore? It is stunning what schools are not teaching kids today and no one seems to care of see the point in it. It’s right up there with teaching cursive or reading a clock face. School systems don’t see the importance of teaching these time-proven elements.

According to Wikipedia, “The most common numeral system is the “Hindu-Arabic” numeral system, which allows for the representation of any non-negative integer using a combination of ten fundamental numeric symbols, called digits.  In addition to their use in counting and measuring, numerals are often used for labels (as with telephone numbers), for ordering (as with serial numbers), and for codes (as with ISBNs). In common usage, a numeral is not clearly distinguished from the number that it represents.”

Sure…

Here in America and I suspect elsewhere, we attach a lot of emotion to the numbers we use. The number “13” is so significant that most high rise buildings do not have a 13th floor. Seriously! Thirteen is considered an unlucky number. One Million, or 1,000,000, is considered a lot of money. Yet, we can’t seem to comprehend anything beyond One Billion. The United States is in debt for roughly $32 Trillian. Just imagine a credit card bill for that much.

Numbers….math…are an ever-changing subject. We continue to find new ways to calculate using numbers. It is said that back in the 1800s, mathematicians found more and more ways to develop different abstractions in order to share different properties of numbers and are still working this subject. It is all Greek to me because I’ve never been any good at math.

We couldn’t wait for Sunday nights on CBS – 30 minutes of a boy and his dog – a “Rough” Collie named “Lassie.” The “Lassie” television series ran for 19 years on network television from 1954-73.

The timing couldn’t have been any more perfect in an age of millions of young baby boomer kids who loved animals and fictional stories about animals. It was all about a dog saving the day for a boy, his rural farm family, and animal friends. Lassie taught us kindness that could only come from man’s best friend.

“Lassie” spawned a succession of nature-oriented television series like “Flipper,” “Daktari,” “Gentle Ben,” and the like that extended into the 1970s. Disney’s great success has always been fueled by the universal love of animals. Rare is the person who doesn’t love animals.

Lassie was a fictional “female” Collie, which began in a 1938 short story penned out by Eric Knight. Ultimately, “Lassie” grew into a full-length novel, Knight’s “Lassie Come-Home” in 1940. In 1943, MGM turned “Lassie Come Home” into a movie only with a lead character named Pal. The “Pal” character went on to become “Lassie” in a series of MGM “Lassie” movies, which wrapped up in 1951 before going to television in 1954.

With the advent of television came “Lassie”, which had the same kind of following as “Law & Order” has had since 1990. Viewers just can’t get enough of it nor could they ever see every episode. “Lassie” debuted and, for the next 19 years, a long succession of “Lassie” Collies ensued, trained and owned by animal trainer Rudd Weatherwax. While most viewers saw Lassie as a female, Lassie was, in truth, always a male. Lassie appeared in radio, television, and films as well as hordes of toys, comic books, some animated cartoon series, novels, and a host of other media.

By 1973, the viewers had had their share of “Lassie” and Timmy had long been saved from the well. It was time to move on. Yet, the Lassie legacy never ended. We put “Lassie” on the shelf, but never forgot the magic and tenacity of the Collie. She never let us down.

In 2005, a redo of the original “Lassie Come Home” movie was shot in the United Kingdom starring Peter O’Toole and Samantha Morton. It hit the big screen the following year. What’s more, two animated television series featuring this legendary Collie were produced in the early 1970s after the series went off. A new animated series – “The New Adventures of Lassie” was produced by Superprod and Classic Media where Lassie was owned by the Parker family living in a national park.

When we were very young, “Lassie” kept us entertained every Sunday night along with Ed Sullivan and Disney. It was a wonderful time to be alive, grow up, and be entertained with the animal heroes we loved so much. In this age of mean-spirited tasteless television, old TV shows like “Lassie” are a nice escape.

I suppose we can be considered the end of an era. Some believe “The Greatest Generation” – our parents and mentors – was the end of an era. However, we are the last generation to remember playing together using our imaginations instead of electronic devices.

In all fairness to the young, if we had the technology kids have today, we would have been very engrossed in video games, virtual reality, and cell phone relationships. You can count on it. It would have been too tempting to ignore, peppered with “Hey, where did you get that?!”

Back in the day, we had battery powered toys, which kept us entertained. We had television, radio and record players. Yet – we still played with army men, and did Cowboys and Indians, Suzy Homemaker, Barbie, and other forms of make believe and we had a ball doing it. When we were kids, our minds were virtual reality.

I love to watch little kids – which are adults in training. Cool thing about children is they’re a clean sheet of paper with the exception being genetic programming – which is what they are born with.

Children become what they are taught. They are born with the ability to imagine and create, and they are born with no real awareness of race and cultural differences. They are born as a clean canvass waiting to be painted in a positive way. It is what we teach them along the way.

It was the simple pleasures we enjoyed as children that I miss today. Waiting for the ice cream man. Wandering the neighborhood searching for a friend to play with. We didn’t care if they were black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Jewish or anything different than we were. No one cared. We only knew we wanted someone to play with. That is the difference between little kids and adults. It depended upon how you were brought up and what you were taught.

What triggers memories for me most are the smells and aroma of the time period. It was catching the aroma of woodsmoke in the chilly autumn air knowing the holidays were right around the corner. For me, Halloween was the gateway to the holidays, waiting for the thrill of Christmas morning and what would be waiting for me under the tree.

Whenever I hear the roar of the crowds and the energized demeanor of a sports announcer, I think of NFL football on Thanksgiving Day in thr 1960s. That sound excites me to this day even though I do not follow professional football. Christmas Day was always good for sports events and that din of football games going on across the land while Mom was in the kitchen preparing a feast. In the wake of autumn football games was basketball during the cold winter months when we couldn’t go outside and play.

Kids today are thrilled with the latest video games. Me – I was excited by a new bright red 24-inch SEARS bicycle. I wanted one so badly that I so obsessed with having a bicycle that it was all I could think about. On Christmas Day 1965, the weather was unusually mild. I rolled that new bike out to the garage, put batteries in its twinset headlights, and headed for the streets. My two-wheeler was new-found freedom. Freedom to cruise the community and ride wherever I wanted.

I outfitted that bike with a generator set with a headlight and bright red taillight and could ride well into the dusk. However, by the time the streetlights came on and I could hear neighbors signaling it was time to come home, I knew I’d better get home. My neighborhood was alive with young baby boomers playing kickball, softball, Dodge Ball, tag, hide and go seek, and a host of other activities. Come nightfall, we’d play under the streetlights until bells started ringing, fathers were whistling, or mothers were yelling it was time to come in.

These were parental noises no kid wanted to hear. It meant a bath, brushing teeth, and bedtime right after “Family Affair.” My God, that dreaded Crest commercial at the close of “Family Affair” where the announcer told us to get regular dental checkups, watch treats, and brush twice daily with Crest. I grew to hate the sound and the commercial. Both always meant school tomorrow.

I’d like to hear about your childhood memories. That said – do share your childhood memories – both good and bad – and let’s make a Boomer Journey out of them. You may email me at jimsmart.jbjmediagroup@yahoo.com.

You’ve seen this place in countless movies and television programs. It was where fictional aeronautical engineer and father of three boys, Steve Douglas (Actor Fred Mac Murray) worked in the popular 1960s sitcom “My Three Sons” on CBS. Steve Douglas would have been employed by Lockheed, which designed and built aircraft here for decades – the mighty Constellation, the Electra, and even the SR-71 spy plane. Lockheed did it all right here at Burbank Airport.

Hollywood-Burbank Airport opened in 1930 as “United Airport” before it became the Union Air Terminal in 1934. The name eventually changed to Lockheed Air Terminal. In the post-war years, Burbank Airport became Hollywood-Burbank Airport, which it was for decades, then, Glendale-Pasadena-Burbank Airport. The name changed again to “Bob Hope Airport” for a short time before returning to “Hollywood-Burbank Airport” recently.

Apparently, the esteemed actor and comedian Bob Hope fell from grace amid complicated Burbank Airport politics.

Confused? So am I…

In 1930, flying was an exciting new phenomenon enjoyed by the few and the wealthy. No better place for it to gain notoriety than the entertainment capital – Hollywood, California.

Burbank, California is a small town in a large metropolis – Los Angeles. It just feels like a small town with all of the dynamics of a small town. Yet, most of the movie studios are here along with a large portion of the television industry. Most of the sitcoms you see on television are shot on a sound stage in Burbank. I’ve had a number of friends who live in Burbank. It feels good to hang out at their Burbank homes and take in the cuisine in any of the city’s many delicatessens.

Burbank is a feel-good place – a throwback in time.

You never know who you’re going to see on the streets of Burbank. Outsiders perceive there’s a celebrity on every street corner, however, this has never been true. I have a friend who lives in Toluca Lake within the City of Burbank. His neighborhood has been home to Bob Hope, Paul Henning, and a host of other celebrities. Actress Swoozie Kurtz (Joyce Flynn) of “Mike & Molly” lives right next door.

You get the idea.

Celebrities and the rank and file live together peacefully and respectfully in a place like Burbank. It is not uncommon to be in a restaurant or shopping mall and see a celebrity. Locals know to leave celebrities alone to live and eat in peace.

Honestly…I’ve never understood autograph seekers.

I’ve been living in the Los Angeles area for 30 years. I arrived here for the first time in September of 1990 to join Petersen Publishing Company, which was founded by the late Robert Petersen in 1948. Petersen founded Hot Rod Magazine out of the trunk of an old jalopy. “Pete” Petersen could never have known the empire he was creating in the car capital of the United States. Los Angeles has always been about personal transportation – cruising down the freeway in something to be seen in or something so beat up and pathetic that it blends.

Last month, the Burbank-Glendale-Pasadena Airport Authority (BGPAA) broke ground on a new, safer, modern, and more convenient passenger terminal at Hollywood-Burbank Airport. They’re calling this effort “Elevate BUR.” More than 300 community leaders and stakeholders turned out for this event to celebrate the launch of construction. This has been an event that has been coming for years. False starts, politics, a battle of wits. At last, it is here.

“From the friendly staff, to the airlines, to the convenience, Hollywood Burbank Airport is the gem of this community,” said Felicia Williams, President of the BGPAA, “We have a great team of Airport Commissioners with backgrounds in finance, law, construction, and public service, who are dedicated to moving this project forward on time and on budget.” And so the transformation begins.

The new state-of-the-art Burbank Airport terminal will offer a wide variety of features ranging from shopping and dining, upgraded restrooms, and more space. A new ticketing lobby, baggage screening system, updated TSA checkpoint and new baggage claim area will, in theory, make traveling easier.

The motivation to build the new terminal has always been about safety more than anything. Because BUR was opened in 1930, it is a dated design originally erected for dope and fabric biplanes, not jets. Runway 8-22 runs literally right past the terminal while 15-33 is longer and is some distance away. When you’re sitting in the gate area, the loud roar of thrust reverse is too close for comfort. Startled passengers look up with a “WTH!” look on their faces.

Though this has never happened, the thought of a jetliner leaving runway 8-22 and winding up in the middle of a 94-year-old terminal building is unsettling. Some years back, a Southwest Boeing 737-300 overshot Runway 8 and wound up in the middle of Hollywood Way just missing a gas station.

Following Sherman Way down across the San Fernando Valley on a long final for Runway 8 always leaves a knot in your stomach because you have just barely 6,000 feet to stop before turning left into the gate. The longer a jet lingers over the concrete before touchdown, the more on edge we become.

The big message from the BGPAA is safety and convenience. These folks tell us the design of the new terminal includes greater distance between both airport runways and the terminal building. What’s more, this effort also includes updates to meet current earthquake standards and ADA accessibility standards. For passengers, they’re including a 45,900-square-foot aircraft parking area for boarding and deplaning, a new parking structure with EV charging, and a new on-airport access road for convenience.

With all this excitement comes a lot of sadness. Because I have been traveling through Hollywood-Burbank Airport for more than 30 years, the existing terminal has become an old familiar friend. Access has always been easy from the ticket counter to security to the gate. Like any good old-fashioned airport in the land of perpetual sunshine, Burbank still continues to board planes via airstairs where passengers can get a good close look at the airframe about to carry them away. This is a lost custom we will all have to get used to.

I will long miss the feel of sun, rain, and wind on my face.

I speak from experience when I reflect upon the years I was bullied in school. I was a dorky awkward kid with glasses just short of being equipped with a pocket protector. Much of it can be attributed to the way my mother dressed me. She hadn’t a clue how to dress me.

In retrospect, it all seems superficial. At the time, it was horrible. 

Is this your story?

It is the story of a lot of kids through the ages. The world has changed significantly since we were all growing up in the fifties and sixties. When we were growing up, the only solution for a persistent bully was a bloody lip – a Ralphie moment (A Christmas Story) where you become psychotic from the emotional wear and tear and beat the living crap out of them.

We’ve become ridiculous when it comes to bullies to where we perceive we have to post “Bully Free Zone” signs all over schools to discourage bullying. This is some of that pop psychology rhetoric and what they’re doing in California. However, it does not stop bullying. Signs and even consequences on an official level won’t stop it. You can send bullies to the principal’s office – however, they will be waiting for your child on the street corner. 

They were always waiting for me. 

The best advice I can offer parents today is to teach your child self confidence and how to fight back. Instill confidence in them and show them what to do with a bully even at the risk of getting beaten up. To stand up to a bully will instill self confidence. It is important to never put their lives in danger – yet at the same time teach them to stand up for themselves. 

Of course, the best fight to get into is the one you avoid. It is important to never go looking for a fight. I learned that one the hard way. Teach your children how to defend themselves. I believe it is healthy to enroll your child in a self-defense class – Martial Arts, Boxing, Kick Boxing, or simple self-defense strategies designed to keep them safe. These forms of self defense are about self discipline, confidence, and survival. Kids also need to know how to escape to safety when things become dangerous. 

I am not qualified to give parental advice. However, as a parent of a 15-year-old (I am 67), I speak from experience. The greatest favor you can do your children is to instill self-confidence without allowing it to go to their heads. Let them bask in their own self-worth to where bullies don’t stand a chance and your kid will excel.  

Keep in mind bullying isn’t always physical, but largely mental. There’s social media where young people take an emotional beating. Teen suicides tend to be the result of social media bullying. 

I’ve found the teen years are a vulnerable age for young people. It has been a long time ago, but I’ve never forgotten my adolescence. It is an emotionally unstable time for a kid. You’re not a child anymore and you’re not an adult yet. As hormones change, emotional instability flares out of control. Anger. Rage. Depression. It is a time of change and emotional unrest. 

At 67, I am finding our sixth decade is a time of change emotionally just like our teen years were a lifetime ago. If you find yourself emotional and on the edge of tears at this time in your life, take heart because you’re in good company. We’re all going through it. When you are feeling so very much alone, it is a good time to be in the company of others and cultivate a good support system.

  

   

  

The Empty Chair… 

Most of us have seen it throughout our lives. You could say the empty chair is symbolic. It means different things to different people. For some, it is just a place to sit. For others – it may seem unattractive – utilitarian. After all – it’s just a chair.

Or is it? 

For me – sitting in a quiet doctor’s office waiting room staring at an empty chair is symbolic of loss.

We’re all feeling loss to different degrees these days. We’re feeling the empty chair because it is symbolic of those who were once in our lives who are gone now. Some I think of daily. Others come to mind from time to time.  

How about you?

Who are you missing the most this morning?

When we were so very young, losing those near and dear to us seemed way off in the future. Our parents. Our friends. Unthinkable to think of them not being here. One day, you wake up and you are 67. Not only are a lot of friends and family gone – so is a lifetime. 

Time lost…

However, as this chapter in your life unfolds, consider this. You’re still very much alive. Alive to feel, think, experience, and love others. There are those who cannot say that anymore.

Fill your days with gratitude…grateful to still be living. 

When you’re feeling like all has been lost, know all will be well no matter what.

When we were coming of age in the 1950s and ’60s, we were judged by what we drove. You either had a really cool ride or you had the old family sedan that had been a second car, which was an excellent way to spend life alone. No one wanted to be seen in an old Chevy wagon or a Ford Custom. 

These were not first cars that impressed anyone back in the day.   

We all remember the songs of the era – Little GTO, Mustang Sally, Little Deuce Coupe, Fun-Fun-Fun, 409, Rocket 88, Drive My Car, Little Old Lady from Pasadena, Drag City, Little Cobra, Hot Rod Lincoln, and a host of others. These songs inspired us to go cruising. There was nothing quite like “profiling” in front of store windows – watching yourself go by.  

We were revving up our engines and sounding real mean, beholding the roar of an all-American V-8. That’s what we wanted and that was what we were going to have.  

It was a terrific time to be alive. As a nation and a society, we were on the rise and headed for the Moon. A newly elected President Kennedy spoke of the future with great passion and we were ready to embrace it. If you were in high school or on the way to college, the future was yours to hold.  

We dreamed of owning a Mustang, GTO, Camaro, Barracuda, Chevelle SS, or Roadrunner. In truth, what we got was a VW Beetle, Fiat 600, or a Renault Dauphine. Even if we could afford a sporty car, the parents wanted us in something sizable and safe – an urban battle wagon. 

Visionaries in the car business like Lee Iacocca of Ford and John DeLorean and Jim Wangers of Pontiac went after it with conviction because they themselves loved automobiles. They were both marketing types and automotive engineers. What they envisioned brought car buyers into the showrooms. They understood how to put the keys in buyers’ hands. 

Wangers and Delorean slipped GTO in under the radar as a LeMans model to get it quietly past GM brass. GTO was a smashing success for 1964. It became a standalone model for ’65. Everybody wanted one and The Beach Boys were there to help sell it. 

Lee Iacocca stepped in as Ford Division General Manager and Vice President when Robert McNamara left the company to join the Kennedy Administration, which opened the door for Iacocca to pursue hot cars and the Total Performance program. Ford’s stodgy image handed off to a legacy of high-performance Galaxies and Falcons followed by the white-hot new Mustang in 1964. Mustang’s introduction what the hottest thing since the Model T. 

For a whole lot of us, the VW Beetle, known officially as the Type 1, became our first car despite visions of a hot sporty car. It was what our parents could afford and it would get us to college or a trade school. In fact, the Beetle became a cult ride for the masses embraced by millions everywhere. Nothing could surpass its great success. 

Ford came after the VW Bug in 1969 with the affordable 1970 Maverick for just $1,995.00 – less than the VW’s base sticker price. The result was more than half a million Mavericks sold that first model year, launched on the Mustang’s fifth anniversary. Iacocca’s marketing genius was to follow baby boomer trends and it worked. It kept Ford in the black for years to come. Boomers bought compacts and subcompacts, then, moved on to the minivan in the 1980s. 

The rest is history. 

It seems we’re the last generation to truly embrace personal transportation though motorists still want their own space for the commute to work and school. Public transportation is for the birds. Whatever the vision 60 years later, we can sleep well knowing we came of age at an incredible time in American history. If you’re lucky, you still have that first car in the garage.