Things I Miss from My Childhood and Miss for My Kids

I watched an interesting documentary the other week on Netflix, about the origins of Funko! pop toys.

It was an interesting documentary not only detailing the history of the toys, but also profiling several collectors – both famous and not. I am not a collector in the strictest sense, but I do have 9 of their toys on my desk at work (representing Doctor Who, Walking Dead, MST3K and Saturday Night Live). CootieGirl has over a dozen in her room, and CootieBoy even has one or two. For those keeping count, Denis has none.

While watching, what struck me (and thus inspired this post) was an employee at Funko! who showed off his office which was straight-up 1970s kitsch. He talked about how he realized that his love of the 1970s came directly from the affection he felt when looking back on his childhood via family photos. All of the pictures represented things he loved – including the shag rugs, garish patterns, and over-the-top colors.

It got me thinking about things I miss from my own childhood that are no longer around. Most recently, I reminisced with Denis about one of my favorite cereals from my childhood: BucWheats. Man, I loved BucWheats cereal. To me, it is basically just Wheaties with maple glaze/honey poured on it. The cereal was only sold for about 10 years before it was taken off the market, and I wish they’d bring it back for old times’ sake. I also miss the old school style of Frosted Mini Wheats that they stopped making in the 2000s. Now they only have “bite size” and they are not nearly as good as the true originals. The originals were longer, less dense, and typically had much better sugar coating coverage. That is very important, as all lovers of Frosted Mini Wheats know.

Another thing I miss from my childhood: the Sears catalog. I’ve seen plenty of memes on Facebook about “anyone born after this date will not know what this is” that feature the once-ubiquitous catalog. Even though my parents rarely shopped from the catalog, that did not stop me from getting my hands on the Christmas catalog the minute it was delivered to our house and going through it with a fine-toothed comb, carefully pressing down the corners of the pages that featured something shiny and wonderful that I wanted. And price was no object since I was so young – what did I care about prices? I just wanted that new bike/doll/toy that was featured as being the perfect gift for the child every parent loved.

Third thing I miss is more an action versus a thing. And it’s something I miss on my kids’ behalf. When I was in my early elementary school years, we lived in Sterling, Virginia on a street that was PACKED with kids. I’d come home from school and immediately meet up with 8-9 other kids on my block and we’d all go two doors down and play kickball in Steve’s backyard. As it began to get dark we’d all head home for dinner. Even after we moved to Oak Harbor, Washington, after school was a time to walk to my friend Kathy’s house and listen to Heart records while playing with Barbies, or go to my pal Jerry’s house and trade Smurf action figures. We’d spend two hours on most Saturdays at the Roller Barn skating to Bay City Rollers and KISS. I saved up enough babysitting money so that I could buy my own skates (the cool ones that look like tennis shoes) and lavished them with fancy homemade poms.

My kids have never been able to do that – mainly because we live on a very busy street within our neighborhood, but also because few/none of their school friends actually live in our neighborhood. My one regret is that we did not buy a home on a cul-de-sac so they could have the freedom to run around and make more friends and play without having to worry about constant traffic. Instead, my teens come home from school and hop online or play videogames or watch TV. And who knows, maybe that’s what their schoolmates do, too. But occasionally I’ll describe something from my childhood, and I’ll see my daughter’s confused/shocked look that implies, “You did WHAT?” And it’s not that I did those things because my parents were lenient and let me roam around town doing whatever I wanted. I did them because to do otherwise never crossed our minds. When I was 11 years old I thought nothing of walking (half a mile? a mile?) to Kathy’s house and then together we’d head to the movies to see “Xanadu” for the 3rd or 5th or 8th time. No cell phones, no parents driving us, no set time we had to be home other than “dinnertime.”

They were heady days, the 1970s. I miss them.

Not enough to decorate my whole house in that style though.