The Land That Made Me Me…..

1950’s version of an E-Mail….I have no idea who put this together, but it is fun…and true!!   And I have a question at the end of it…..

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,

For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born, where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince, Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one’s seen him since.

 Danced to ‘Little Darlin,’ and sang to ‘Stagger Lee’
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, 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 Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.

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’d never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead, and Airplanes weren’t named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led

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

We’d never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they were not grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and ‘gay’ meant fancy-free, and dorms were never co-Ed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

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

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

T-Birds came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks, and bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And 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 or prime-time ads for those dysfunctions 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

And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,
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 to join AARP,
We’ve come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they’re using smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children’s children of the way it used to be, Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.


Let’s talk!

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8 Responses to The Land That Made Me Me…..

  1. Mustang says:

    Ah yes … yesteryear. Back in the day. The golden days. When America was the land of milk and honey. In the days when Americans were protected by the Bill of Rights … in a time before the Republicans and Democrats took all this away.


  2. Adrienne says:



  3. bocopro says:

    Went to my 50-year class reunion some years ago, looking to revive many of those particular memories. Kinda sorta enjoyed it, but when I got a questionnaire about a year later asking if I’d like to have a 60-year get-together, I wrote ’em this to publish in their little flier:

    Progress of Life: Sweet, Salt, Bitter, and Fat

    From far-flung concerns in diverse distant places,
    We go back to peer at those old childhood faces
    With questions about what Ma Nature has done
    In the last 50 years while we made our own run.

    And we hope we will drink from the aged old roots
    Of the vines whence we came when we all were just youths,
    Let that bittersweet liqueur now smooth and sublime
    Lift and transport us back to a magical time.

    But the girls that we knew as all svelte and willowy
    Now seem to be more like all soft and pillowy,
    Not like we remember — all taut and real purty,
    Many of them are now more like all stretched and sturdy.

    And I noticed their voices seem quite a bit lower
    And all of us have to move quite a bit slower,
    And most of the guys and a lot of the chicks
    Are now smuggling melons among their new tricks.

    Yes, the rinds are all wrinkled and darkened in spots
    While the insides of many seem tied up in knots
    And their sweetness diluted by gastric distress
    While those bald spots are hidden without much success.

    I saw dozens of fully inflated spare tires
    And I listened to more than a few slick-tongued liars,
    While amazed at how straight were the teeth in some grins
    And how odd to see far fewer noses than chins.

    Oh — that dreamboat who brought sleep on so many nights?
    Well, she’s still captivating with twinkling eyes,
    But I’ve learned that although she may have had “it,”
    There’s three guys who got sick and tired of her s—.

    So I came back down here to my own happy life,
    To my house and my dog and my beautiful wife . . .
    Leaving all my old friends with their pains and their cares
    And I give thanks for some of those unanswered prayers.


  4. David Drake says:

    I miss cars with a LOT of chrome, tail fins, an interior slightly smaller than the Taj Mahal; Saturday morning cartoons that were actual cartoons and not mass-made using CGI; A&W’s and what seemed to be a much simpler, less hassled life.


  5. Mal says:

    “I also miss the Model “T” from the land that made me me!


  6. Kid says:

    In a way, I miss the ignorance is bliss part of my life.


  7. Mal says:



  8. The phrasing, telling and metre of that remind me of the Statler Brothers ‘Class of 57’.


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