Have your parachute pants in hand? Lines of coke diced up on your coffee table, a reverent portrait of Ronald Reagan snuggled up beside it? Then you must be living in:
1980
It was my first double-digit year, which my mom might have actually repeated to me over 6,050 times. I'm happy to think I won't live to see 100 as to not hear the constant tally of the number of digits in my age. This would be my last year attending Kennedy School as the town was shutting down 2 of the 4 public schools and combining us all into a single melee of education. If I'm not mistaken, this was the beginning of the end of the marriage for Ruth and Bob McGarry, the one I still am puzzled by how it started.
I failed to mention earlier, but I was enslaved in the ranks of the Cub Scouts for a few years, and this was my "Weblos" year, the last Cub Scout year before Boy Scouts begins, and let me tell ya...it wasn't my "thing". Any of it. The most time I'd spent outside was shoveling the drive in the winter, and now I was being stuffed into moldy canvas tents in southern Wisconsin, forced to carry buckets of rotten pump water, participate in sewing, chopping, whittling, and open-fire, baked beans-making contests. I remember thinking that all of the adults involved were utter nerds. I mean, a grown man wearing a Cub Scout cap and neckerchief doesn't command very much respect.
One particular memory is a father/son campng trip where we all slept in one large cabin. After lights out, my Dad and Eddie Schreier's dad snuck out, found a local bar, and got shitfaced, which I found to be the most ultimately cool thing that the Scouts could teach me. The following morning, they were so hungover that they slept in and missed the 5 mile hike in the snow that left us all frostbitten. GENIUS!
Also, by now, I'd not only gotten involved in band but was beginning to develop an interest in chorus.
Wait - I'm not gay?
1980
It was my first double-digit year, which my mom might have actually repeated to me over 6,050 times. I'm happy to think I won't live to see 100 as to not hear the constant tally of the number of digits in my age. This would be my last year attending Kennedy School as the town was shutting down 2 of the 4 public schools and combining us all into a single melee of education. If I'm not mistaken, this was the beginning of the end of the marriage for Ruth and Bob McGarry, the one I still am puzzled by how it started.
I failed to mention earlier, but I was enslaved in the ranks of the Cub Scouts for a few years, and this was my "Weblos" year, the last Cub Scout year before Boy Scouts begins, and let me tell ya...it wasn't my "thing". Any of it. The most time I'd spent outside was shoveling the drive in the winter, and now I was being stuffed into moldy canvas tents in southern Wisconsin, forced to carry buckets of rotten pump water, participate in sewing, chopping, whittling, and open-fire, baked beans-making contests. I remember thinking that all of the adults involved were utter nerds. I mean, a grown man wearing a Cub Scout cap and neckerchief doesn't command very much respect.
One particular memory is a father/son campng trip where we all slept in one large cabin. After lights out, my Dad and Eddie Schreier's dad snuck out, found a local bar, and got shitfaced, which I found to be the most ultimately cool thing that the Scouts could teach me. The following morning, they were so hungover that they slept in and missed the 5 mile hike in the snow that left us all frostbitten. GENIUS!
Also, by now, I'd not only gotten involved in band but was beginning to develop an interest in chorus.
Wait - I'm not gay?
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