Friday, October 27, 2006

*In The Land of Sandra Dee*


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 from 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 Dee.

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 was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.

We didn't have Star Trek Five,
Or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rockie-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,
And 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.

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 flouride,
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 Perriere 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 was 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 way
In The Land of Sandra Dee.


*I don't know the author, but this brings back so many wonderful memories!

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