As an amateur 20th century historian, one of my favorite years to look at is 1967, the year I turned two. The 60s are pretty interesting altogether, but certain years stand out not only in terms of politics and world affairs, but also pop culture.
One memory I have of the first house I lived in was of managing to put the Beatles' record "Help" on the turntable and making it go.
I got in trouble for that. I wonder if they noted it was a fairly precocious thing to do? But in my family, precociousness would have been the accepted standard. They were all "sharp," at a time whan that's just what some people were.
Only they say (they said) I spoke very little at that time. And I was, apparently, easily offended, easy to cry, too "sensitive." I remember a little of that, but that's for another day's musings.
In the colored photo, I'm sitting in my musical rocking chair. And that Motorola TV is from 1965. We had it until I was sixteen, in 1981. Behind it is the odd bookcase I mention from time to time, which I later raided for Ian Fleming and Agatha Christie books.
In the black and white photo, I'm two and a half. That doll's name was Drowsy, and I had her for years. When I was about six, my brothers were fighting over her and she was whacked against that shiny (pink) chair in the background; which had a brown slipcover on it by then. Her hip was permanently dislocated, and ever after that, when I pulled her string, she said only, "Gabblegabblegabble." I was heartbroken.
