Poetry Sunday

The upcoming election is taking on the character of a time machine: the GOP wants to take us back to the 1950s (or the 1850s ... or the 1750s), while the Democrats want to move us more quickly into the future. This poem, attributed to Leland Waldrip, rather sums up the political right's fever dream. 

The Land of Sandra Dee

By Leland Waldrip

Long ago and far away,

In a land that time forgot,

Before the days of Dylan

Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents,

And they were you and me,

Long ago and far away

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Oh, there was truth and goodness

In that land where we were born,

Where navels were for oranges,

And Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House,

And Hoss was on TV,

And God was in his heaven

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We learned to gut a muffler,

We washed our hair at dawn,

We spread our crinolines to dry

In circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming

All the way to Tennessee,

All starched and sprayed and rumbling 

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We longed for love and romance,

And waited for the prince,

And Eddie Fisher married Liz,

And no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin'",

And Sang to "Stagger Lee"

And cried for Buddy Holly

In the Land of Sandra Lee.

Only girls wore earrings then,

And three was one too many,

And only boys wore flat-top cuts,

Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams

Did we expect to see

A boy named George with Lipstick

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,

Annette as oh, so nice,

And when they made a movie,

They never made it twice. 

We didn't have a Star Trek Five,

Or Psycho Two and Three,

Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,

And Chester had a limp,

And Reagan was a Democrat

Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr Wizard,

But not a Mr T,

And Oprah couldn't talk yet

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had our share of heroes,

We never thought they'd go,

At least not Bobby Darin,

Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal,

And life was yet to be,

And Elvis was forever,

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never seen the rock band

That was Grateful to be Dead,

And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson, 

And Zeppelins weren't Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then,

And Monkees in a tree,

Madonna was a virgin

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never heard of Microwaves,

Or telephones in cars,

And babies might be bottle-fed,

But they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out,

And "gay" meant fancy-free,

And dorms were never coed

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We hadn't seen enough of jets

To talk about the lag,

And microchips were what was left 

At the bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails,

And bytes came from a flea,

And rocket ships were fiction

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Buicks came with portholes,

And side shows came with freaks,

And bathing suits came big enough 

To cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles,

And skirts came to the knee,

And Castro came to power

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had no Crest with Fluoride,

We had no Hill Street Blues,

We all wore superstructure bras

Designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose

Or Lipton herbal tea

Or prime-time ads for condoms

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

There were no golden arches,

No Perriers to chill,

And fish were not called Wanda,

And cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was thirty-five

And old was forty-three,

And ancient were our parents

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

But all things have a season,

Or so we've heard them say,

And now instead of Maybelline

We swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations

To join AARP,

We've come a long way, baby,

From the Land of Sandra Dee.

So now we face a brave new world

In slightly larger jeans,

And wonder why they're using

Smaller print in magazines.

And we tell our children's children

of the way it used to be,

Long ago and far away

In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts coming. 

Bilbo