The Summer of 1962

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Poem Commentary

It was so much fun that summer, we just had our 40th re-union last month.  Time goes by so quickly.  I have another one I wrote about my grandmother I am going to post next.
Your friend, Janie

The Summer of 1962

The Summer of 1962

The warm, humid days of the summer in 1962, there were always the three of us Janice, Debbie, yelling at me “Come on Janie, we got to be home soon.”
Plans that we made always kept out anyone else,
Teenager secrets were at the top of the list.
Spending 35 cents at the Fox theatre that night,
Telling everyone else’s mother, “there is an adult, we will be all right!” We were all going into high school that next September,
So we had a lot of living to do and tall tales to remember;

One hot weekend in the middle of August because of good behavior I could have a slumber party; with the girls, tent, all in the backyard on, groovy I thought, I could use Grandma’s charge card.
A place called Superior Dairy is still there just like it was then,
Ice cream, chips, malts, shakes and custom sandwiches I car-hopped to all my friends, wishing I was one way back when.

Not realizing the cost I would pay the next month when the bill came in the mail. I was so grounded I thought I wasn’t going to be able to see Janis Joplin’s concert in San Francisco that next month called “Cheap Thrills.”
Then there were the canals we swam in, rope tied to a tree, screaming to high heaven;
That was such a delight but only after we had to stuff pig’s gut to make linguica, my limit was I think, seven!

When it’s quiet and it’s early in the morning hours,
I think of my friends that summer,
Shaving our legs, pimples amass, hoping all of our clothes would match, I hope that we all remember the good times while the years come and go, without our memories getting any dimmer preventing us from remembering.

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shannie76 commented on The Summer of 1962

11-02-2009

This is great Janie, those kinds of memories really bring back alot of emotions. Once again you did good!

WritingsByJanie

11/02/2009

I need to upload a picture when I cut my hair like one of the "Beatles" when I was 15 or 16. I was up early one morning, drinking coffee and remembering that summer, thoughts coming faster than I could type. It was fun. Thanks for the great comment. Your friend, Janie

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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