(OT) [Fwd: Changing times

Subject: 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 and we washed our hair at dawn.
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn.
One 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 Dee.

Only girls wore earrings then and three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts except for Jean McKinney.
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 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.
The 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.
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.
Cokes 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 and we had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras designed by Howard Hughes.
We had no patterned panty hose 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.
Middle age 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.
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.
Now we tell our children's children of the way it used to be
Long ago and far away in the Land of Sandra Dee.

This is wonderful, Evelyn! Did you write it? May I have your permission to
post it in another newsgroup (alt.sixtyplus) where there is a current
discussion of "how things were when we were young"?

Joy

"Evelyn Vogt Gamble (Divamanque)" wrote in message
...


Subject: 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 and we washed our hair at dawn.
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn.
One 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 Dee.

Only girls wore earrings then and three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts except for Jean McKinney.
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 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.
The 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.
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.
Cokes 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 and we had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras designed by Howard Hughes.
We had no patterned panty hose 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.
Middle age 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.
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.
Now we tell our children's children of the way it used to be
Long ago and far away in the Land of Sandra Dee.

"Joy" wrote in message
...
This is wonderful, Evelyn! Did you write it? May I have your permission
to post it in another newsgroup (alt.sixtyplus) where there is a current
discussion of "how things were when we were young"?

Joy

"Evelyn Vogt Gamble (Divamanque)" wrote in message
...


Subject: 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 and we washed our hair at dawn.
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn.
One 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 Dee.

Only girls wore earrings then and three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts except for Jean McKinney.
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 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.
The 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.
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.
Cokes 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 and we had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras designed by Howard Hughes.
We had no patterned panty hose 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.
Middle age 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.
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.
Now we tell our children's children of the way it used to be
Long ago and far away in the Land of Sandra Dee.




Thanks Evelyn,

Ah yes, how well I remember the days of Sandra Dee.
We all longed to be just like her. Incidentally I seem to remember that
she died not too long ago.

Bev