Among the treasures I found recently is a bad CD copy of my “Free to Be You and Me” record. I think I’ll need to get a good copy soon (actually, while looking up the link, I ordered one). It is one of the more surprising items from my childhood, pretty out of character with the rest of the raised-female nature of my stuff, but its influence has been lasting.
Times have changed. T.R., listening with me over breakfast yesterday, did not get the point of “Parents Are People.” I had to explain that there was a time when a lot of people thought that mothers really weren’t capable of much else.
It is all very earnest and consciousness-raising. Thankfully, it is also hilarious. Mel Brooks is the funniest baby ever, often quoted in our house: “A cocktail waitress!” “Bald, bald, bald. Bald as a ping-pong ball!”
I haven’t had time to re-listen to Rosie Greer allowing everyone to cry or “The Tender Sweet Young Thing” or “William Wants a Doll.” But I am going to, soon, and it will make me happy.