Yeah, I don't know..... I read somewhere that when you endeavor to write, it is always best to write down what first comes to mind. Do you at least remember the song?
What made me think of it was simply a connection between the 10 vintage rock t-shirts I took into my possessions this afternoon and a true rock anthem. This brings me to my question of the day. Why is it so damn hard to get guys to part with their vintage rock t-shirts in the first place. Don't look to me for the answer, well other than, they hold memories - if you know how to get them out of their clutches though, please do let me know.
Here's another blast from the past. I've taken the notion that I would like to locate a bit of memorable from my youth. An vintage 'rain lamp'. They were either on the table in the living room or hanging in a corner. Made of brass with some sort of figurine in the centre. The heat of the light bulb warmed the oil which moved from one reservoir to another via dripping down a set of beads, into the base and being pumped back up. The lamps were never really a thing of beauty, but many people had them. I believe most of them hailed from the 50's as my memory would have been when I was in my early teens.
So, I am seeking a 'rain lamp', hopefully functioning. If anyone knows where I can get one - the real kind not the late '80's early 90's reproductions, kindly let me know.
Another quest high on my list is funky hanging lamps. Yep, right out of the 60's and 70's. Orange, blue, green globes, hanging from golden chains. They need to be glass though, not the plastic type. Oh and chairs. Big ole tulip chairs in all kinds of bright garish colours. Send them my way.
Now I know that most people find this retro stuff just pure junk and frankly, I bank on that. I was never a real fan of furniture when I was younger, it is a later in life thing. I did however have the most outrageous bedroom as a teenager. Bright purple with huge purple flower wall paper. I had a huge room too. Complete with a 'stereo corner' and a 'work area'. A double closet that you could never get the door closed on. You know the kind - hell you all had them. Oh and the best - purple shag carpet! My room rocked.
Come to think of it, the 70's pretty much rocked too. Yeah it was high school, there were always issues, always reasons to panic, but you know, looking back, life was good. As a kid I never wanted for much. My family worked on the basic principals - earn your way. I always thought we were hard done by, needless to say, I was delusional. As a teen I worked on the family farm and in town at the local (and only for 30+ miles) Canadian Tire.
My girlfriend got me the job, in the paint department. It helped too that a guy she was dating, was the owner's son. I worked after school and full time once I was out of school for the summer. My first year at the CTC was also the first summer that I had my driver's license and was able to drive on my own. With Daddy's car, which of course I abused the privilege of having. (after I took it to my ball game, headed off to 'party' with the group - yes with the boys - and 'forgot' to make it home)
My Dad was very fond of taking away privileges - he took away the right to drive. Grounded, I went to and from work and to and from the barn - for a whole summer..... my life sucked! Well except for sneaking out when the folks took a well deserved weekend away and left their 'irresponsible, not able to drive daughter' in charge of milking their 100+ herd of dairy cattle. Oh and I was allowed to play ball and hang out in town occasionally with my group of girlfriends - as long as I reported if I left their house..... yeah, as if.
Speaking of the farm. It was over 800 acres, 100+ head milking, calves, horse (which I worked my butt off to have), a few goats, a pig or two and assorted other critters my Dad had a habit of bringing home. (once again, I wonder where I got the 'collector' habits)
I worked a crappy job, which I loved by day and most days when I got off I either jumped on a tractor or found my way to the barn to milk. Yes, I complained, yes life was hard. I remember one exceptionally hot Sunday. I'd been out - at a girlfriend's in town, watching tv, helping her babysit - all the night before and Mom had picked me up bright and early so I could come home and help with the hay. Did I mention it was hot. After a long day in the blistering sun, burning to a crisp and fighting an ever present hangover, I finish the field and headed for home. I pull my big mighty Case tractor up to the fuel pumps, passing by the front veranda. On it were my two good friends - guys of course having a nice cold beer with my Dad. Nice. I was very hard done by!
Ah yes, the 70's were pretty cool. I can't say I ever want to go back - though I do kinda wish I'd hung on to all of that weird and bright clothing I had. And the rock t-shirts.... oh my, what was I thinking. Those days were certainly the foundation of who I am today. They gave me structure, want and desire. I remember graduating from high school knowing that the future held opportunities that I could not even begin to understand.
I fondly recall a high school basketball coach - he was instrumental in keeping me on the straight and not so narrow. He was my coach from grade 9 until grade 13 grad. I was one of his 'chosen kids'. He was our mentor, our guidance councilor and our friend. He taught me about perseverance and tenacity. He made me understand the meaning of fighting harder and digging deeper. He still makes me smile today and I can still see him and hear his boomy voice. Mr. 'Buggsy' Stevens (Dave to those who were not his students) passed away the summer after I graduated. I called home from a weekend away with friends camping - it was May 24th. My mom gave me the news, it was sudden. I didn't go to the wake and couldn't bring myself to go to the funeral. I always knew I was one of his 'special students' I guess I just always wanted it to remain that way.
Ahh yes, life was bitter sweet and tragic. There were days th
at held no rhyme or reason. But over all, it was all pretty good.
The 70's gave us so much. Besides peace, free love and assorted wicked wild experimental drugs. It gave us the right to be who we are today. The freedom of expression and speech. The pride in ourselves and our country. Life indeed was good.
