The 1950’s

**Full disclaimer: I am sorry but I am not in the mindset to proofread and edit so here is some raw material. Don’t judge me. But if you do, keep it to yourself. 🙂

You guys, I had a flashback earlier to when I was in the 5th grade. It could’ve possibly been in the 4th grade (i’m quite certain it was the 5th) but in this circumstance it’s all one in the same. I remembered having to do a report on a genre or decade of time. I don’t remember how we chose what we chose or if there was any significance to it but I had the 1950s. Again, my memory isn’t serving me specifically but you get the gist.

Somehow, I think of the 50s nostalgically. I haven’t lived through the 50s so I don’t have much authoritative knowledge on the topic but it was somehow a decade of meaning.

I grew up listening to Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Rosemary Clooney, Dean Martin, Johnny Mathis and the like. I thought sock hops were the coolest thing and that hula hoop, how awesome was it to hula hoop? I think of those cul-de-sacs and how every home must’ve looked like the ‘Brady’ residence. And how everyone wanted a mother like June Cleaver who baked pies and shook her head at her kid’s antics laughing them off but loving them all the same. How Disneyland was a huge deal and the war was becoming a thing of the past. How Ford was revolutionizing transportation. How there were roller skating waitresses at carhops serving milkshakes.

How does this not all sound like a time you wanted to be a part of?

Anyways, I remember how big of a deal this homework was. There was research involved. I had to go to the library and legit scan through books and quote things. I had to submit notes that cited evidence. I had to really understand what it was I was reporting on.

I remember this being the first real project that took significant effort. I remember I chose the 1950s. I know somewhere alone the way there was some sort of consensus that took place. Maybe this project was a team collaboration and we respectively had our own assignments. I do remember knowing I wanted this decade. This era was mine because in some unexplainable way it was important to me.

What I also know is that tonight I was having drinks with a couple of co-workers and I found myself in the “washroom”. And in it there were posted clippings of presidents’ past. And out of no where I remembered this time in my life that I never thought to be significant. This time when I had to do a report on the 1950s. But this time that slapped me in the face out of no where while I was washing my hands in 2015 reminded me of a previous life.

It made me sad you guys. Really.

How can at such a formative stage in my life of me doing something I haven’t thought of in years and years and probably more years affect me so hard? And how could something that was a project that was soo hunge then feel so small now? It probably holds the same weight that a work presentation would have currently but thinking back it feels so far removed.

It was something I vividly remember being so important to me. It was something I really wanted to work hard on to showcase my effort and be proud of. Here I am, so many years later, it reminds me of a time that was so simple yet was so significant to a period of learning and growth. It was formative and it is important to notate.

I don’t  know if I know exactly why I feel the need to share this except for the mere fact that things hold weight. That memory will surprise you. That your life has moments of importance that you may not realize at the time but will most likely reveal itself later. That you should hold things dear to your heart. That a lot of things don’t change (I still have a deep penchant for Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis Jr, sock hops, The Brady Bunch, Disneyland etc). That even if things are sad because the moment is gone the meaning still hold value. That I still love to gather things and make 1 big thing out of lots of smaller little things.

Tonight and this memory was just another reason for gratitude. I am sad because I am nostalgic yet I am satisfied because I am blessed.

Good night.

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