|
About the Author
 |
If you were lucky enough to have lived in 1959, you'll remember
it as a much simpler time in a much less complicated world.
To most of Arthur Burlingame's pals, pot was a cooking vessel used by their mothers in the kitchen, and coke was something you drank from a bottle after depositing your nickel in a soda machine. Now, If it happens that you WEREN'T among the fortunate few who can still look back and remember their teens in the late '50's, then I hope you'll learn to rejoice to the fullest in your own era, and let it be absorbed permanently into all your senses. For one day you too will sit and reminisce; and who knows? You may even decide to pen a novel of fiction, and paint the pages with your own words of youthful reflections. I did. The Author |
For a nineteen year-old, small town disk jockey who divided
his time between his love of radio and his childhood sweetheart,
1959 was a clock's face that told him when Sputnik would be passing overhead, or when he had
to get his girlfriend home from a date, or when to cue a commercial during his
radio show. To him, the pages of the calendar marked the period of relative
peace following Korea and the onrushing chaos of Viet Nam.
