Welcome to Baby Boomer Stories. This is our first post.
I am at that magical age where I am too young to get Medicare benefits and be put out to pasture but old enough to remember when you had one telephone in the house or apartment. It was colored black and was in the kitchen so that the lady of the household got to monopolize it. And it was a party-line, which meant that your family shared the connection with other people. If you picked up the phone and heard them talking, you got off and waited to try again when it was free. It was considered bad manners to listen in. If they were still on the phone ten minutes later when you checked again, then you asked them to kindly stop yapping.
That’s what this blog is all about- memories of things I did and saw as well as thoughts and opinions on how they affected my growth. Notice I didn’t say maturity because that is something that is still a work in process.
You are my party-line. Come back often and listen in as well as give me your experiences. As my father used to say, â€œThere’s a coffee pot on the stove. Come on over for a cup and we’ll chat.â€