Posts Tagged ‘Melodramatic Weathermen’

Wait. I’m the guy on the right? What the . . .

Time really does fly, kids. The old folks who say that aren’t kidding. Hell, I’m a Baby Boomer and it seems like last week I was cruising Bourneville on my bike with the leopard skinned banana seat, butterfly handlebars and sissy bar. That bike was a chick magnet, man. Good times. Anywho, things have, shall we say, changed since I was a youngin’. With your permission (except not really because I’ll do it anyway) here are my impressions of the differences between 1970 and 2020.

Note: For reference, yours truly was a young and innocent 8th grader in 1970. 


The kid on the left is getting germs from not only the hose but his two friends.

Bottled water is a huge thing in 2020. Buy Pure Sparkling Spring water! It’s from the cold, bubbly spring of a remote stream off the North Platte River in Wyoming! Good Lord. The water could actually be from a bucket under Floyd Meeker’s downspout in Booger Hole, WV and nobody would know the difference. In 1970 there was no such thing. We drank from the faucet, the garden hose and the old bathtub behind Old Man Keeton’s toolshed. If somebody would have asked me to pay money for water in 1970 I would have first laughed, then slapped them right in the temple.


Hey kids, believe it or not in 1970 there was a difference between school clothes and regular clothes. Dead serious. There was no way you’d be caught dead wearing your school clothes while out playing in the yard. If you did and your mom found out you’d be whipped with a tree branch or something. More on that later. In 2020, there is no difference. Kids wear whatever they want, whenever they want. Doesn’t this sort of show a lack of respect for school? The answer is yes.


Here’s the deal. In 2020 anybody can buy a letterman’s jacket. You just go to a store and buy one. Any style, any combination of your school colors, doesn’t matter. In 1970, letterman jackets were earned. You never dreamed of going out and buying one. When you earned a varsity letter, the athletic department made a big deal of presenting you with a letterman’s jacket, and you were damn proud to own it. I still remember Mr. Johnson handing me my jacket. I couldn’t wait to wear that baby, and I did all the time. To reiterate, in 2020, letterman’s jackets are bought by anyone. In 1970, they were earned and given to you by the school.

That, my friends, was called a feathered haircut. Thank you and goodnight.


In 1970, I went to get my senior picture taken at a local studio, and I was in and out in 10-minutes. One head shot. That was it. I think it cost maybe $9.99. In 2020, senior pictures are a big ordeal. Hours of photos taken at several locations,  multiple costume changes and props, all for a cost of anywhere between $500.00-$2,000.00. See, the photography folks have you right where they want you. Graduation is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and when they show you the proofs you simply have to have them all for your kid. Remember that you don’t have to buy them all, parents. Your child will somehow survive without a 40-page album of photos of him or her posed around hay bales, leaning on fences, standing under a covered bridge or holding a squirming hedgehog.

Note II- Sorry photographer friends.


In 2020, sometimes kids buy class rings in 7th grade. Doesn’t matter that you may not be alive in 6-years, let alone graduate, they want a damn class ring! And what if you move to another school? I’m perplexed. In 1970, nobody dared buy a class ring before the summer prior to their senior year. It just wasn’t done, partly because it was being a bit presumptuous.

Note III: Do kids even buy class rings at all anymore? I’m second-guessing myself now.

Note IV: I don’t think they do. Sigh.


Let’s keep this simple. Here are the top selling artists of 2020:

1. Drake

2. BTS

3. Ed Sheeran

4. Luis Fonsi

5. Taylor Swift

And here are the top selling artists of 1970:

1. The Beatles

2. Led Zeppelin

3. Simon & Garfunkel

4. Paul McCartney

5. Creedence Clearwater Revival

Please tell me we don’t need to discuss this. We don’t, right?

Note V- Who’s Luis Fonsi?


In 2020, our phones are our lives. Our phones have a GPS system, the internet, games, music, and we can even text or, God forbid, talk to people. In addition, our phones talk to us. MIne told me I was a selfish A-Hole the other day. Wait. That was an actual person doing that. Never mind.

In 1970 we only images56AQC2ZFhad landlines, and we only used them exclusively to talk to people. Gasp! That’s it. If you were in your car you had to find something called a phone booth along the road, pull over, and make a call after putting coins in it. Barbaric I tell ya. But let’s be honest. How many of you older folk long for the day when you could get in your car, take a long drive, and have a 0% chance that anybody could contact you? I know I do.


In 2020, we simply input our destination into our smart phone or car GPS and wait for the disembodied voice to tell us where to go. In 1970, we had giant maps that were impossible to refold correctly and we had to actually follow the roads with our finger and, you know, read road signs and stuff. On a related note, I was once looking at a map while driving down I-75 towards Florida when it flew out the window, causing havoc and mayhem amongst the heavy traffic behind me. I long for a simpler time.


In 1970 we had dangerous child killing contraptions called see-saws and slippery slides and monkey bars and merry-go-rounds on our playgrounds. Shoot, we used to do backflips off the top of the monkey bars onto the hard ground while the teacher on recess duty rated us on a scale of 1-10. In addition, I’ve seen kids fly off of merry-go-rounds and into poles, trees, and random kindergartners. In 2020, all of this equipment is being phased out for being too dangerous. Future students will be required to wear helmets and those inflatable sumo wrestler get-ups before going out for recess. Sigh.


In 1970, cars had dashboards full of metal pointy things and nobody ever wore a seatbelt. Hell, I once rode from Ohio to Colorado in the back window of our 1971 Pontiac Catalina Brougham and dad used to hit the breaks just to send me flying into the back of the front seats. And you know what? I loved it. In 2020, dashboards are made of soft, cushy stuff and everyone has to be strapped in like you’re taking a rocket trip to Mars.

Note VI: I wrote about this subject in a couple blogs, one called 14 Things You Don’t See In Cars Anymore and another called Killer Toys, Soft Kids and a Sobering Realization. Hit those links and take a gander. 


In 1970, if you got in trouble at school the very last thing you did was run home and tell mom and dad. Why? Because they’d assume you were being an idiot and you’d get in trouble all over again. In 2020, the very first thing most kids do is run home (or better yet call) their parents. Why? Because the kids know mom and dad will assume the teacher was wrong and go stand up for them. The difference is that today most parents jump in to save their children at the first hint of adversity rather than let them deal with their problems on their own and, you know, learn how to handle adversity.


In 2020 we have weathermen and women regaling us about the oncoming Cyclone Bomb or Thundersnow and that we’d all better run for our lives or face imminent death. In 1970, the weather folks would calmly inform us that bad weather might be afoot and we should probably move our patio furniture into the garage but only if we felt like it. People were a calmer back in the day, man.

Dramatic much?


In 2020, hardly anybody hitchhikes. Everybody worries that the hitchhiker might be a serial killer or the hitchhiker is afraid a serial killer might pick him up. In 1970, hitchhikers were everywhere. I imagesGX8CLVW3had a buddy who used to hitchhike back from college in Tennessee a couple times a month. On a related note, I picked up a soldier a couple months ago and got to hear him deliver this line: “Hell, I’m more scared of that dog of yours than anything I ever saw in Afghanistan.” Guess Sparky thought he was a hobo.


You’ve heard me harp on this enough, so I’ll keep it simple. In 2020, swatting your kid on the butt can literally get you arrested. It’s nearly disappeared as a teaching tool. In 1970 and before, not only did my parents whip me, any adult could beat my ass. I was smacked by my barber, the neighbor, and the guy who ran the gas station. But hey, I kept riding my bike over that wire/tube thingy that rang the bell in front of the station so I deserved it. In addition, I didn’t tell dad because he would have throttled me again. And look at me, I turned out alright. So to speak.


In 2020 we have the Coronavirus, and we’ve also had SARS, Avian Flu, Swine Flu, MERS, Ebola, and Zika over the past couple decades. Everyone panics and empties their local supermarkets of everything from Charmin to Uncle Si Chia Pets. In 1970 we probably had diseases like that but since nobody knew about them nobody cared, let alone dress themselves in hazmat suits before walking out to get the newspaper. When Uncle Bernie got that cold and kicked the bucket we just said he died of “natural causes.” Again, folks were more laid back.


To be fair, not everything was better in 1970. You know, there were a lot more racists and sexists around and whatnot. I guess everybody thinks life was better when they were a kid, and in 2070 today’s kids will probably be saying things like, “Can you believe they couldn’t teleport back in 2020? Absolutely savage” or “Wow. People actually ate pigs back then? Eww.” I also bet they’ll be saying stuff like, “Hell yes I love The Beatles. Who doesn’t?”

Because thankfully, there are some things that will never change.

Note VII: While researching this article I discovered I’m older than 84% of the people on earth. That should be depressing to me but it oddly isn’t.

Note VIII: Save your angry messages telling me not to make light of the Coronavirus. I’m just kidding so lighten up.

Bonus Video!

Best weatherman ever.

There’s a storm coming. We get it. You’ve terrified folks sufficiently enough for them to postpone Halloween, for Frankenstein’s sake. Don’t recall that ever happening before. Who postpones Halloween?

And the giddiness these weathermen announce the upcoming storm with borders on the disturbing. It’s almost like they’re, well, aroused as they point to the oncoming STORM SYSTEM OF DEATH.

Shouldn’t they be a little more calm and not so damn excited? Hide your children! Grab your pets! Or grab your children and hide your pets! Secure all belongings! Batten down the hatches! Retreat to your underground bunkers! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

And please desist from breaking into our regular scheduled television to gush over the approaching calamity. Then you won’t look so stupid after we get some light sprinkles and you stand their sheepishly making excuses as to why you overreacted.

And don’t you love it when some asshat is standing there in his $200 rainsuit and goofy hat, telling us all to find shelter, only to have a couple bros run by in the background with swim trunks, frolicking in the water?

Guys who mess with pompous weathermen are the best.

And would somebody please explain to me why weathermen get complimented or thanked for good weather on newscasts? Shouldn’t we be thanking, you know, God or somebody?

I don’t need weathermen. You know what I do when I want to know what the weather’s like? I go outside.

Good Lord.

And as for the video below, dude, it was lightning. Get a grip.