In case you’re bored, another Diatribe. I’m not sure if I consider myself a “yuppie” as in the definition of Victor David Hanson who says that we are “Yuppism... is not definable entirely by income or class. Rather, it is a late-20th-century cultural phenomenon of self-absorbed young professionals, earning good pay, enjoying the cultural attractions of sophisticated urban life and thought, and generally out of touch with, indeed antithetical to, most of the challenges and concerns of a far less well-off and more parochial Middle America. For the yuppie male a well-paying job in law, finance, academia, or consulting in a cultural hub, hip fashion, cool appearance, studied poise, elite education, proper recreation and fitness, and general proximity to liberal-thinking elites, especially of the more rarefied sort in the arts, are the mark of a real man. However, I am glad that I have lived in the era that I have. I have witnessed black and white television, color television, watched movies on computer, as well as stage. I remember spiked blue jeans, Hanover tennis shoes, and times when you could leave your doors unlocked when going to bed. I remember the snows of winters and the heat of summer, both seemed much worse when I was younger. I remember professional baseball and football before the wild card, and I remember only watching the NBA on Sunday afternoons. I remember hearing that John Fitzgerald Kennedy was shot in Dallas, TX. I remember the pain when they announced his death. I remember whites hating blacks and blacks hating whites, however, we in our little town were better than that. I remember the Black Panther Party taking over the Administrative Building at, what is now, West Virginia State University. I remember sitting down and talking to one of the black men that I was suppose to hate, and realizing that I had more in common with him than most. I remember paper routes and waking up at 4:30am to find the headlines saying that Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated, then just two months later seeing that Robert F. Kennedy had met the same fate. Maybe Huey and Bobby were right? Maybe we needed a change. I remember when there were no Wal-Mart’s, Targets, Mc Donald’s and believe it or not, no malls. We seemed to survive, didn’t we? We ate out, if we were lucky one night a week, and we all sat around the dinner table, many people for every meal. I remember downtowns, whether it was in our little town, or the big town next door. I remember Sloan’s and Riley’s, Ray’s 5 and 10 Cent Store, I guess you could call them the original Dollar Store. I remember when drug stores were small, and no Walgreens, Rite Aids, or CVS’s vying to take over the competition. I remember the “big city”. The sight of the Christmas lights at Sear’s AND Roebuck, J.C. Penney, Stone and Thomas, Frankenbergers, Montgomery Ward’s made my heart and the sky glow. I remember the junior high dances, and the prom. I remember the graduation night festivities. And yes, I remember Boone’s Farm Apple Wine, MD 20/20, and Ripple, if you were all but broke. I remember acid, LSD, weed, and “sniffing glue”. I remember sitting in the back seat of a 1965 Mercury listening to Steppenwolf’s “The Pusher”. I’ve been asked a lot by my students, “Mr. Slaughter, were you a hippie?” I answer, “Yes, we all were, to a certain extent. I served in the US Marine Corps and still protested the war. I still believe that there was someone on the “grassy knoll”. I believe in God, heaven, hell, and rock and roll. I’ve lived the rock and roll, and I’ve tried my best to live for God. I’ve succeeded in my life and I’ve failed in my life. Young, not anymore, Upwardly Mobile, not anymore, Professional, always, in my walk and my talk and my life. Tru Dat!
Posted on: Thu, 07 Nov 2013 02:33:09 +0000
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