On this day in 1957 my father would not have been allowed into the maternity room at the hospital, Dr. Spock was telling mothers to let babies cry it out (mine did), no one had landed on the moon and a few months later, in June, an influenza pandemic hit Britain. 1957 was the year Paul McCartney met John Lennon, Elvis Presley sang "All Shook Up",
the Queen delivered the first televised Christmas speech and "The Scapegoat" by Daphne du Maurier was top of The New York Times Book List.
Growing up I envisioned a life similar to my mothers and maternal ancestors, I would get married, have children and the status quo would continue. Indeed I even remember making an award winning squeal when I was about six, when my mother and I passed the "posh" department store windows featuring wedding dresses.
Thankfully life didn't quite turn out that way. It has been a much more exciting, sometimes rocky and altogether a more fulfilling one than I could possibly have dreamed thanks to women like Gloria Steinem, who helped pave the way out of accepting life in the back seat and the good friends I have made along the way.
Thirty years ago I was probably dreading this day, but now that it's here and I continue the adventure into my third career as a writer and novelist, I deeply appreciate how fortunate I am to have those same wonderful friends my two daughters and new friends to still love me, now that I've hit sixty four.
To you all, I'd like to say a big thank you and cheers!