Saturday in the 60's

If this were a hot summer Saturday in the 1960's, it would have gone something like this...

I would have woke up early. The only thing on TV were agricultural quiz shows. I watched them. My sister's hated it, as they could hear the sound of the buzzers all the way upstairs.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair. My mom would get up and make breakfast. My dad would appear dressed and ready for the day.

Since it's summer, I didn't have to go to piano lessons. I hated piano lessons. I paid for them myself, by doing work at church for my dad, who was the custodian. The apple falls not far from the tree. I dusted auditorium chairs. Then, walked a few blocks for piano lessons. But, in the summer, I was free! Of course, I still had to do the work, but I was free from the lessons.

After work, my dad liked to pick around at thrift and salvage places. I remember one hot summer morning he took me to this delightful place called Capital Wrecking. In one room the only thing there was a huge chandelier from a large hotel downtown. I remember it laying there, like a glass mountain on a bare cement floor.

Another one of our favorite places was the Do It Your Self Shop. This place had everything. It was orderly, yet messy enough to be interesting. I loved the smell. Like freshly sawed boards. My dad was the king of 'do it yourself'. He is a perfectionist.

When we arrived back home, lunch would be ready. My mom and sisters would have been baking all morning. If it was hot enough, mom could be found making potato salad to bring to a picnic. Going on picnics was something I remember doing a lot. I cannot remember the last time I've gone on a picnic. But, we did it a lot in the 60's. Sometimes, just down the street to a park close by. Other times, to the lake.

Some Saturday nights there would be an auction my dad liked to go to. I think it was the 4th Saturday. I could never keep it straight. Auctions scared me nearly to death, but in an exciting way, where it was worth the fear just to have the 'people watching' experience. My dad liked to bid on old tools, because they were so well made. He also liked to bid on the occasional 'grab bag' boxes of odd bits of stuff. Sometimes we would remark to each other about the old old junk people were snatching up. Snatching it up as if it were treasure. We were appalled. "Why would anyone want that?" Things change. I'm now one of 'those' people.

When we got home, everything was carefully put away in his garage. My dad had more stuff than any of my friend's dad's. But, NOTHING in my dad's world was ever a mess. His garage had so much order to it, he could tell if I even laid a finger on anything. His basement was even more orderly. If he had it, he knew it, and knew right where to find it. This trait he did not pass on to me, although he tried valiantly.

Usually, there would be a Tiger game on the radio, if not on TV. We would eat our popcorn and if it was REALLY hot, drink our pop while listening to what Al Kaline, Willie Horton and Mickey Stanley were up to. We only got to have pop when it was REALLY hot. It was a treat. It was also store brand pop. (it was not, and i repeat, not, soda!)

If this night were in the early 60's, my sister would give me a bath. This was always fun. She would let me have dolls in the tub, and I would yank their heads off so I could fill them up with water. This would mean that my dolls peed for weeks at a time. I was a realist. I still am, sort of. My entire life, the only kind of bath soap we ever used was Vel bar soap. I miss Vel.

But those Saturdays are gone. Like Vel bar soap.

And these Saturdays are good, too.