“The Town That Made Me, Me”

Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,

Before the days of Dylan, in an opened Adirondack woodlot.

There lived a race of innocents, in a place called Tupper Lake,

A land of Spruce and Hemlock and bobbins we would make.

In those days bygone, we washed our hair at dawn,

Chopped our wood with brawn, and stacked it on the lawn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our 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 Town That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,

And only boys wore flat-top cuts, considered very manly.

Not in our wildest dreams did we expect to see

A boy named George with lipstick, in the Town That Made Me, Me.

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 Town That Made Me, Me.

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 Town That Made Me, Me.

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 Town That Made Me, Me.

We'd never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,

And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson, and Zeppelins were not Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkeys lived in trees,

Madonna was a virgin in the Town That Made Me, Me.

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 beer was never lite in the Town That Made Me, Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,

And microchips were what were 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 Town That Made Me, Me.

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 below the knee,

And we wore real fur in the Town That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride; we had no Hill Street Blues,

We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea

No A.P.A or D.E.C. in the Town That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,

And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,

And pioneers were our parents in the Town That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world, not known in our teens,

We wonder why they're using smaller print in all the magazines.

The stores are gone and gas is through the roof,

The world we knew, gone in a… poof!

We tell our children’s children of the way it used to be,

Long, long ago.... in the Town That Made Me, Me.