Boomer Babes and Real Cougars

I was in my first week of flight attendant training, the day I turned twenty. The year was 1967 and I was embarqing on a new and exciting adventure. At that time, we were called "stewardesses" and the company issued to us sky blue uniforms with a sky blue pillbox hat. 

During winter we wore blue and irridescent green for summer that made us look like we were in the military service.Oh yes, and we were never without our white gloves, even though mini-skirts and long hair were the current mode. I actually got busted twice after starting my flying career.

Being over my 111 1/2 pound weight limit by two pounds, got me docked two weeks pay. Another time later that year, I was busted again for not wearing my hat and gloves to board two passengers at 4 a.m. One of those passengers was a CEO with the company. I remembered his name for years, but have finally forgotten it. After all, that was 42 years ago! 

I must not have smiled enough in the wee hours of the morning, as he called my supervisor and reported me. She in turn called me back into her office at 8 a.m., just as I had gotten into bed after working a three day trip. Suspended again for yet another two weeks. Ah, the good old days!

We transported so many young men returning from combat in Viet Nam out of the west coast. Some of them had been wounded and had just been released from hospitals on their way home and some on their way back out for a second tour.

It was a very confusing and tumultuous time. Men and women were questioning their beliefs on everything from free love to abortion, the use of marajuana, marriage, birth control, religion, women's rights and world affairs. Women's rights were at the forefront with books written by Bella and Betty and Gloria and most women were conflicted about where they stood as mothers and wives, and as women. 

Marabel was telling us to wrap ourselves up in saran wrap and to greet our husbands at the door to keep a happy husband and home.  All of us were caught up in the whiplash of the changing times. PLAYBOY magazine was read by everyone and THAT GIRL would soon become the new role model for young career women.

Like most of my friends, marriage was the predominant long term goal. So at 22, I was a married woman and part-time stepmother to two young boys and I had no idea on earth what I wanted beyond where I was. Time went by, there was another child and I was busy building a new house, transporting kids to birthday parties, carpooling, volunteering, taking trips to see colleges and then finally trips to take kids to college. 

There were countless ritual holiday meals to prepare and parties were planned. The perfect life, or so it seemed from the vantage point of the casual observer.  After being married for 18 years, I realized I was out of touch somehow. Mostly out of touch with myself, my feelings and completely disconnected from the person I had married so long ago, when I didn't even know who I was.  

We're all different with different people, I've come to realize. Some people bring out the worst in us, whereas others bring out the best. Chemical combustion creates a whole new combination. The trick is being a whole person first before trying to find that right combination. With every relationship, we learn about ourselves. We learn who we really are and what we truly believe to be important.  Maybe, if I meet "Mr. Right for me", when we gaze into each others eyes, we'll recognize each other. Who knows?