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ivan@stellysee.de
| From | "Jeff" <Jeffrey@dol.net> |
| Subject | My G-g-g-g-generation / was: Re: Favorites |
| Date | Fri, 4 Jun 2004 11:19:17 -0400 |
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Steve D. wrote:
> Little did I know that soon on bus
> rides to school we'd all be singing "Jeremiah was a bullfrog.." at
> the top of our lungs. Oye! :)
Hi Steve, and Thanks ...
This is the kind of stuff that nearly every day renders me slack-jawed
in awe at the shared experiences (and memories) we all have here on this
list. That's EXACTLY where I remember first hearing and singing this
song. In fact, it was on the way home from a 6th grade class field trip,
probably to the Smithsonian. We were just pulling back in to school,
trip just about over, when this song came on the radio. I remember
thinking to my 11 year old self, "I've NEVER heard anything like that
before!" A wine-drinking bullfrog named Jeremiah? What!?!
And thanks to Greg Sager for mentioning "While Lies, Blue Eyes" by
Bullet. I WILL own a copy of that single by the end of this day, no
matter the cost or time involved. <grin>
(CAUTION: Reminiscing Boomer alert! Read no further if you're easily
sickened!)
Sitting here thinking (maybe too much?) about this thread, it's never
been clearer to me why "our generation" is so closely bonded (Wait! It
gets worse!): Picturing a kid *somewhere else* in America in the mid
seventies delivering papers on his bike and hearing "Crocodile Rock"
playing from a nearby car radio (for example) just stops me in my mental
tracks. Sure, nostalgia is easy and fun, but sometimes it's part of the
glue that keeps us all on the same couple of pages. Not to be overly
dramatic, but we do SHARE this stuff, don't we? Talk about the
soundtrack to our lives ... and what a time it was: a young teenager in
Mid-seventies suburban America. We were, I think, (many of us, anyway)
SO blessed, and I am SO grateful.
This is also, of course, the reason why so many other generations (quite
understandably) find us so annoying, sappy, condescending, cliquish and
self-important. I think the truth, though, is in THAT EXACT SHARED
MOMENT being like none other: can you smell, taste, see, hear and feel
the "Pleasant Valley Sunday-ness" of it all? If you can, then we were
"all" in the same place at the same time. And to me, that's pretty cool.
Because when I was a kid, growing up in my safe little world in
South-central Delaware, I had NO IDEA that there were lots of other kids
out there experiencing the very same thing. I think I'll call my Mom
(and give a heavenly shout out to my Dad) and thank her (again) for
providing my brother and I with such a wonderful environment to grow up
in. I know it wasn't that way at all for lots of American kids. I was
blissfully ignorant of it back then, of course, but I understand it now
(or do I, *really*?). Doesn't make me (us?) any less annoying though,
does it? ;-)
Not weeping just yet <grin>,
Jeff T.
De.
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