Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Somewhere That's Green


A matchbox of our own
A fence of real chain link
A grill out on the patio
Disposal in the sink
A washer and a dryer and
an ironing machine
In a tract house that we share
Somewhere that's green

He rakes and trims the grass
He loves to mow and weed
I cook like Betty Crocker
And I look like Donna Reed
There's plastic on the furniture
To keep it neat and clean
In the Pine-Sol scented air,
Somewhere that's green

Between our frozen dinner
And our bed-time: nine-fifteen
We snuggle watching Lucy
On our big, enormous
Twelve-inch screen

I'm his December Bride
He's father, he knows best
Our kids watch Howdy Doody
As the sun sets in the west
A picture out of Better Homes
and Gardens Magazine
Far from Skid Row
I dream we'll go
somewhere that's... green

(lyrics from Little Shop of Horrors/image from Plan59)

I'm so tired of all this...crap. Terrorists. Bailouts. Deficits. Mexican Swine flu. Blah blah blah.
I want a more simple time. When men were men and women were housewives (I know, that sounds chauvinist, but hey, I benefited a lot by my mom being home all the time and, come on, wouldn't you really rather be at home? I would). When neighbors were actually neighborly. When cocktail hour started promptly at five.

When we knew who the bad guys were (and they weren't our own politicians!) and they didn't crash planes into tall buildings (seriously, people, watch it. We can NOT afford to forget!) When the things we bought were still (mostly) American made. When movies weren't all about shock and gore. No telemarketers from India. No internet scams, mail scams, people stealing your credit card numbers. No meth, no crack, no gang shootings in suburbia. Moms didn't drown their kids. Dads didn't rape the babysitter. (Well, maybe on rare occasion, but not all the time, like you hear now on the news.) And speaking of the news, it was actually news and not commentary disguised as truth.

I think I'm going to build a bomb shelter in the back yard (a la Blast from the Past) and mix up a pitcher of martinis. Anyone wanna come?

6 comments:

  1. Can we bring margaritas? Regardless, please send me directions! I crave a time when life was easier.

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  2. You can have a margarita if you want to. I have fabulous tequila that's just waiting to be introduced to the right lime....

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  3. My favorite part of this is the daily cocktail hour starting promptly at five.

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  4. Mine, too! Especially since I'm at work until 9!

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  5. I try to pretend that it's another time. Cooking a good meal each night, tending to the garden, keeping things small, remembering to say I love you, several times a day. This is a great post!

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  6. Save me a spot in the shelter & a big margarita. I'm on my way!

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