This week while perusing today’s version of the Encyclopedia Britannica, ie, the internet, I happened across a page devoted to my High School’s alumni, both teachers and students. It was a trip down memory lane, replete with a long list of folks whose race with life has ended. It provoked feelings of sadness as well as warmth for the times some 54 years ago when life was simpler and being in the moment brought happiness and security. When you boil it down, not necessarily in the order of importance, my world involved study, girls, fast cars, baseball and nature. Let’s talk girls for a bit.
In 1968, things were different. There was a clear distinction between the sexes, something our current SCOTUS nominee apparently has failed to grasp. It is not entirely her fault that she refused to define a woman, although in a short conversation I am sure I can help her with her conundrum. Her intellectual dishonesty is appalling. With rare exception boys and girls worked damned hard to accentuate their individual characteristics as it related to their sexual identity. We tended to minimize our distractions and maximize our endowments, not change them. The rules, then, were simple. Today there is a birth control pill for men in final testing that’s has shown great promise in mice. In the day, from one end of a hallway to the other, it was pretty easy to discern a man or woman by their hairstyles. Today it is nearly impossible. Man buns didn’t exist. Mohawks on the ladies were not yet in vogue. In those days your clothing made determining gender easy, today it is very unreliable. In those days, when you veered into a restroom of the opposite sex, you got the hell out before trouble ensued. Do it twice and you were catalogued as weird or twisted and shunned. Sports ran along gender lines. I can’t remember a single instance of boys playing on women’s teams or vice versa. Our female student population relied on make up to enhance their facial femininity. Today’s men wear the stuff, a practice that would get you hurt in the locker rooms of old. In the day, when you signed up for a military hitch, your training followed established and vastly different training paths. A woman stepping into a pugil stick pit (bayonet training) would either be demolished or labeled rather unflatteringly. We understood a woman couldn’t carry a 70# ruck sack and march 20 miles before firing a perfect score on the rifle range……and we liked it, because we didn’t want them to do these things. The military is still struggling mightily with this issue, having great difficulty finding the “line” in their unisex world.
A masculine, chiseled man that was well spoken, had a sense of humor, who was groomed and clothed appropriately was in demand. It helped if he had a smidgin of ambition and kept his chariot clean. The subtle scent of Jade East or Canoe was the only chemical enhancement he trusted. By the same token, we preferred a well proportioned lady, dressed neatly in clothing that suited her build, with just a hint of the cologne of the day. We liked just the right amount of make-up or none at all, hands that were clean and soft and an appreciation for just a touch of chivalry. It helped a lot if they were self confident and conversational. Athleticism was always a plus. A neat ponytail, snug jeans and smooth un-altered skin is far more stimulating than a Mohawk and hog ring through the nose or tongue. In the day, jewelry was worn on or about not through and in (pierced ears being the exception). Goth was exceedingly rare and we acknowledged that intellectual superiority existed in both sexes.
Speaking for my generation, I can assure you that a lady dressed to accentuate her assets, who is clean, neat and well spoken will stir my primal instincts a hell of a lot faster than a Gothic, unisex clothed, pierced and rainbow painted lady wearing a pair of combat boots who believes razors are unnecessary. Those were wonderful days and I was blessed to grow up in the environment existing a half century ago. The scent of a woman is still intoxicating…..even though I am old. Thank you to all of my lady friends who are still feminine and, most importantly, want to stay that way until the end. At my age, the smile is not lascivious, rather appreciative. God made us different for a reason, please………no more blurred lines.
Have a good weekend!