The Land That Made Me, Me

 

Long ago and far away in a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan or the dawn of Camelot,
There lived a race of innocents and they were you and me.

Ike was in the White House in the land where we grew up,
Timmy was just a boy, and Lassie just a pup.

Boys learned to gut a muffler; girls washed their hair at dawn,
And spread their crinolines in circles to dry upon the lawn.

Girls longed for love and romance, and waited for their Prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one's seen him since.

We danced to 'Little Darlin,' and sang 'Stagger Lee,'
And cried when Buddy Holly died in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-tops, except for Jean McKinney.

We could scarcely believe our eyes when we did see,
A boy named George in lipstick in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Girls fell for Frankie Avalon, boys thought Annette was oh so nice,
And when they made a movie they never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Matt was a gentle man, but he didn't take no lip.

We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T.
And Oprah couldn't talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had our share of heroes; we never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had never seen a rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Jefferson's weren't Airplanes, and Zeppelin's weren't Led.

Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkees lived in trees,
And Madonna was the Virgin Mary in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had never heard of microwaves, nor telephones in cars,
And babies could be bottle-fed, but they weren't grown in jars.

Pumping iron got wrinkles out, and "gay" meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We hadn't seen enough jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what were left at the bottom of the bag.

Hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from fleas,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Buicks came with portholes, and sideshows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

Coke came in bottles, and skirts covered the knees,
When Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with fluoride; we had no Hill Street Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea,
Nor prime time ads for condoms in the Land That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill.

Middle-aged was 35 and old was 43,
And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me.

But all things have a season, or so we’ve heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.

They send us invitations now to join the AARP,
We've come a long way baby from the Land That Made Me, Me.

Now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using smaller print in all our magazines.

And we tell our children's children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Wonderful Land That Made Me, Me.

-- Provided by Fay Cagle Tooley