But life in my little-bitty hometown in Texas was really behind the times, so to speak. The everyday surroundings and lifestyle that I was accustomed to in the 60s and 70s was really equivalent to that of, maybe, the 40s or 50s.
Case in point.
I was in the sixth grade in 1971. Junior High, for crying out loud. We had an “open campus” back then which meant we could go anywhere we wanted for lunch, provided we were back by the time the bell rang. One could walk home if you wanted, eat in the cafeteria with the nerds, or bring your lunch and eat outside or even down the street.
Or better yet, you could eat downtown.
(Cue the Petula Clark soundtrack here)
The town square was only about five blocks away and, if you ran really fast, there was just barely enough time to eat at one of the lunch counters and, if you ran back really fast, make it back to school in time for the bell.
But just barely. Such an intense endeavor was horribly exciting for an 11 year-old. But off we would go, running down to the square as fast as we could go.
Here’s a picture of downtown in my little-bitty home town.
Raymond’s Café had a very economical hot roast beef sandwich that we liked. You’d get a few slices of roast beef on Texas toast, topped with brown gravy and a side of mashed potatoes for the everyday low price of . . .
. . . are you ready for this?
Sixty-five cents. (.68 with the tax)
We would tear into Raymond’s, plop down on the spinning stools (spinning around like a whirling dervish, of course) wolf down our hot roast beef and gravy, plunk down the 68 cents, and run as fast as humanly possible back to school. (If you were late, the privilege of “open campus” was revoked for about a month, so you didn’t dare be late. Ever.)
There was not a minute to spare – certainly no opportunity for getting into trouble. I’m sure the school officials planned it that way.
I doubt that any Jr. High schools allow open campus anymore, not that it matters.
After all, it’s really impractical to run five blocks and spin at a lunch-counter while texting "OMG WHERE U AT" the whole time.
The town square was only about five blocks away and, if you ran really fast, there was just barely enough time to eat at one of the lunch counters and, if you ran back really fast, make it back to school in time for the bell.
But just barely. Such an intense endeavor was horribly exciting for an 11 year-old. But off we would go, running down to the square as fast as we could go.
Here’s a picture of downtown in my little-bitty home town.
Raymond’s Café had a very economical hot roast beef sandwich that we liked. You’d get a few slices of roast beef on Texas toast, topped with brown gravy and a side of mashed potatoes for the everyday low price of . . .
. . . are you ready for this?
Sixty-five cents. (.68 with the tax)
We would tear into Raymond’s, plop down on the spinning stools (spinning around like a whirling dervish, of course) wolf down our hot roast beef and gravy, plunk down the 68 cents, and run as fast as humanly possible back to school. (If you were late, the privilege of “open campus” was revoked for about a month, so you didn’t dare be late. Ever.)
There was not a minute to spare – certainly no opportunity for getting into trouble. I’m sure the school officials planned it that way.
I doubt that any Jr. High schools allow open campus anymore, not that it matters.
After all, it’s really impractical to run five blocks and spin at a lunch-counter while texting "OMG WHERE U AT" the whole time.
I was born in 1971 *snicker*
ReplyDeleteI read this yesterday--too funny! :)
ReplyDeleteHey, if you're late for exercise tonight, I'm SO going to text "OMG WHERE U AT" to you!! *LOL* :) :)