The Living Room - April 1972

No, by the time 1972 arrived I was not into transcendental meditation. The back of this Polaroid has this written in my hand: "Tried for a decent photo (I failed)." I was simply trying to get somebody (probably Dad) to take a nice photo of me, and was caught blinking. It was taken a couple of days after my sixteenth birthday.

We maintained the homey "early American"/"colonial"/"maple walnut" style into the Seventies. Note the rooster weathervane lamp, one of a pair. I liked these and, I am somewhat ashamed to say, I still do. Yes, they were hokey. Yes, they were cheap. (Mom bought the pair at a yard sale for $20.) But for some reason they appealed to me. Mom kept them in her "Grandma house" in Martinsburg, West Virginia, and we finally sold them to some lucky West Virginian at an estate sale we had when she died in 1995.

That particular sofa was pretty comfortable, as I recall. No inn signs, pepper mills, etc. It was a rather (for us) classy floral print.

The pictures hung on the wall behind me were crap: absolutely generic images of covered bridges, autumn trees in New England, that sort of thing. That shield-shaped object was a display for pins of some kind, but I do not remember what, exactly. L-1011's and other Lockheed aircraft, most likely. Didn't quite belong with the covered bridges.

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