I read an article recently that said those of us born between 1925 and 1955 are said in many ways to have grown up in the best years of this planet.
With a birthday in 1946, I feel fortunate for being part of those decades and how so many experiences in those years enriched my life and perhaps yours.
The article thanked God for the many adventures, wars won, childhood experiences and technology we developed as a society in those decades.
Future generations sadly will never experience what I did. And what a rewarding generation ours turned out to be before widespread violent radicalism, nastiness and corruption began openly pervading our political system and way of life.
Before the 1960s, the majority of Americans felt an underlying unity, regardless of politics or religion. We were proudly Americans first and foremost, and devoted to our individual liberties and a struggle for civil rights. There was much to enjoy and celebrate in those years.
Some walked to school and back home without problems or abductions. I caught yellow buses where we frequently burned off excess energy singing and playing between padded seats.
Friends and I collected empty soft-drink bottles to redeem at supermarkets for their deposit. Enough of them could total several dollars.
A sizable number of us were raised by parents who smoked and drank alcohol, even during pregnancy. Mothers regularly ate tuna fish from a can (mercury be damned) and took full-strength aspirin without concerns. We were put to sleep as infants on our stomachs in cribs often brightly coated in lead paint.
Childproof lids on medicines were non-existent. Kitchen and bathroom cabinets weren't routinely locked. My head was uncovered when I rode my Schwinn. I never rode in a car with safety belts or air bags. I recall becoming nauseated on road trips from smoke wafting into the back seat from both parents chain-smoking Lucky Strikes.
Sundays were reserved for Sunday School and church, often followed by a restaurant brunch or a meal with extended family. I vividly recall Sunday afternoon family drives where we would pull aside at a shady spot for a picnic.
We were happy building makeshift forts from pillows, large cardboard boxes and blankets. Imagination and creativity flourished. Some days were spent chasing each other with cap pistols where those who most realistically fell to the grass "mortally wounded" won admiration. "Wow! Mike, you died really, really good that time."
Teachers taught subjects vital to a proper education such as math, geography, history, science and English without trying to indoctrinate me to a radical ideology, or alter history due to politics.
During hot summers, I drank from a water hose even when the water was warm and tasted of rubber.
It was common for junior high teammates after practice to guzzle soft drinks from a single bottle (often supplemented with M&Ms or peanuts). There was never a concern over eating sugary candy bars, cupcakes, white bread, potatoes, cotton candy, corn dogs, real butter, bacon and other "unhealthy foods" we routinely wolfed down. Yet I never gained weight because I was constantly busy outside playing.
Inoculations required for measles, mumps and rubella were a routine, non-controversial part of my attending public school.
During summers I'd leave home with friends to play all day long, expected to be home when the sun set. No one, including parents, could easily reach us since there were no cell phones or pagers.
Many warmer days were spent wading Crooked Creek and the nearby Buffalo River (as well as fishing stock ponds with worms and bobbers) alongside friends as we regularly loaded stringers with bass, catfish and bream.
Some even got into building soapbox cars and entering them in annual full-sized or miniature soapbox derbies, often sponsored by Scouting troops. Speaking of Scouts, I enjoyed the Cub Scout and Boy Scout programs with all the outdoor adventures they brought.
There were no PlayStations or other video games, DVDs, CDs, surround sound, personal computers or Internet. Our family had only a small black-and-white TV that had a clumsy rooftop antenna receiving only the three major broadcast networks.
I received my first Daisy BB gun on my 11th Christmas. By 16 I was hunting with a .22 rifle or 12-gauge shotguns, many of which were carried on racks by friends in the rear windows of their pickups. Never a problem.
When I acted up in class, teachers with wooden paddles were ready to settle me and my friends down in front of the class. Decorum was expected.
I was taught to address my elders with courtesy titles such as ma'am and sir. Failing to so so often resulted in a belt applied to my posterior or selecting a switch for my parents.
Some of us tumbled from trees we were climbing. Others fell from our bikes and wound up with painful scabs on our knees and elbows. Injuries were few and far between.
As a pastime, my friends and I would draw a circle in the dirt and for hours claim each other's "taws" and colorful marbles.
In a world without cell phones, we relied on a landline at home or phone booths where we shelled out coins to make calls.
Little League baseball and other sports teams had tryouts. Not every boy made the team. The same for cheerleaders and Homecoming courts. Those cut faced disappointment, yet learned to deal with it as a natural part of adult life. No child succumbed from such reality or were they relegated to receiving humiliating "participation" trophies.
I spent many nights over dinner at friends' houses where their mothers and fathers seemed like surrogate parents and spending weekend nights together at my home or theirs. The females also had their pajama parties.
Weekend carport parties where we pups danced to the best music in America's history were common during summers where we also learned the thrill of play kissing games such as spin the bottle.
It was always a highlight to double-date at the drive-in movie on Friday nights, typically followed by cruising the three drive-in restaurants in town to get cherry Cokes and see and be seen.
You had to learn to drive a vehicle equipped with either an automatic transmission or a clutch and standard shift in the floor or on the column. Gasoline cost less than a quarter a gallon. Uniformed service station attendants did the pumping, checked the oil and tire pressure and even washed our windshields.
My parents always sided with teachers when I got a tad exuberant in class. Before school, I regularly soaked myself in English Leather cologne to supplement my pheromones while many female classmates often sprayed the sweet gardenia fragrance of White Shoulders.
This list could go on. The bottom line is those of us who shared those formative years know just how good we had it in many ways yet may never have reflected on just how fortunate we were.
Those from these generations produced some of the best risk-takers and problem-solvers in our nation's history. We experienced freedom while learning from our failures and responsibilities in dealings with others.
Count me grateful to have entered this troubled world between 1925 and 1955, before lawyers and the government chose to begin regulating our lives at every turn "for our own good."
Coldest ever
Did you happen to read that the South Pole just recorded its coldest winter on record? The website Live Science reported the other day that between April and September, a research station located on a plateau in Antarctica "registered an average temperature of minus 78 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 61 degrees Celsius). That's the coldest temperature recorded since record-keeping began in 1957, and about 4.5 [degrees] F (2.5 C) lower than the most recent 30-year average, according to The Washington Post."
The previous record was minus 77 degrees F (minus 60.6 C) in 1976, according to journalist Stefano Di Battista. The Post reported that it learned of the record through Battista and confirmed the information with Richard Cullather, a research scientist at NASA's Global Modeling and Assimilation Office.
Perhaps such an inconvenient (but factually documented) Antarctica record low temperature doesn't matter to those who enjoy the endlessly controversial planetary scenario known as climate change or global warming.
Fresh resolve
Following the stunning blowout in Georgia, a heartbreaking one-point loss to Ole Miss and dropping a third consecutive game to Auburn, the Razorbacks need to feel unwavering support from fans.
With five games remaining in 2021 (four in the SEC), it's a great day for the team to strap on its big-boy pads and begin to regain the capable team's steadfast resolve.
The team obviously needs to reawaken and play today's game with UAPB in Little Rock and the remaining SEC games with as much grit, talent, intelligence and unwavering determination on both sides of the ball as they did against Texas and Texas A&M (which beat Alabama).
Achieving this will necessitate losing the junior-high arm tackling, protecting the football, opening gaps for running backs and protecting the quarterback.
Three more victories would mean a respectable seven-win season. Will it be difficult? You bet.
Yet what isn't difficult in the SEC for a good football team serious about winning?
Mike Masterson is a longtime Arkansas journalist, was editor of three Arkansas dailies and headed the master's journalism program at Ohio State University. Email him at [email protected].