I was born in 60, but just in the last week of the year. So where was I in 1960 , you ask ? Well let?s just say my mother had complete control of my comings and going?s and I have know idea where I may have traveled to.
 

I would have been 11. I remember it being on the radio but I don't think that I have heard it since then.
 
Me too but in '59. Went to Houston and signed up for the Selective Service on my 18th birthday and went across town and Joined the USAF.......before they got a chance to draft me. Wanted to sleep in a soft bed rather than in the infantry in a foxhole and get an education. Told the Recruiter I wanted to be a jet engine mechanic but after I took their battery of tests, I was coaxed into electronics. I told them I had absolutely no idea as to what happens when you flip on a light switch....Rec. said "we'll fix that for you". Dooooooooo not regret the decision. Made me what/where I am today!
 
Remember the song. Didn't much care for it. Graduated school in 60 also. Worked for the neighbor farmer, as Dad didn't have much to do. Navy came along in 64. Stan
 
I was 10 YO. I lived in Detroit. My Dad was transferred to Jacksonville, FL. I had spent the past few summers on the farm in N.E. IN, I LOVED IT! I was dragged kicking and screaming to the HOT Humid South.
My Dad played the guitar and that was one of the songs that he would play. Thanks for posting, it brought back a flood of memories. I never knew what the title of the song was. Dsmythe
 
Most of 1960 I was in ET A School, Treasure Island, Calif. and the rest of it on a DDR, built in 1944, at San Diego, Calif. And learning about an AN/SPS-8A radar.
 
Sophmore at USD driving this...


cvphoto14902.jpg
 
That's the only 45 I ever remember my mother buying. My older brothers had them by the dozen,but she wanted that one. She'd play it over and over.
 
I was in Mr. Morton's 6th grade class, reading every car magazine I could put my hands on. In fact, I was in charge of the magazine subscription drive for the school, and my reward was a one year subscription to the mag of my choice. I chose Hot Rod.

It came at a price, though- I had to miss baseball practice for the week to do my bookkeeping and money-counting, so I lost my starting 3rd baseman job- turned out the other kid was better than me, so I never got it back. Rode the pine, as they say, for the rest of the year.
 
I don't remember that one so much on the radio in the morning,but seems like the local station played Andy Williams Can't Get Used To Loosing You every morning for years.
 
4th grade, just moved to a new farm, dad bought a new tractor. Started cutting, raking, and baling hay all by myself. Still doing it by myself 58 years later. My first experience with the neighbors n fords. Soon learned to detest them
 
I am retired, 3 years now. My lady is still going to work. I can't get used to losing her every morning for years. Sorry, I figured it out on the second reading.LOL
 
Yup.driving '50 Merc. Remember those placement tests? I had two 95s. a 90,and a 40 in Admin(I knew what I didn't want to do)I've been retired 30 years last month!!!!!!
 
I put in 9 years and upon re-up time I had orders to Kindall AFB, FL. TAC unit who just happened to be TDY to S.E.A. at the time with no relief in sight. I missed a stripe on that June promotion cycle that I was due, had the TIG, 30171 AFSC, clean record, the stripes were available and and reenlisting meant I would be over the hump and would then be stupid not to stay the 20 when it was done....if I was around that long.

Getting out and pursuing the career I chose was about the best thing I ever did. No regrets.
 
I was 13. I would set in the park on Saturday night and watch the endless stream of older guys and their cars cruise around. I could quote the engine size and factory horsepower of every local car in the area. I had 2 older brothers who had Motor Trend and Hot Rod subscriptions back to 1952 and I inherited that and kept those and others like Street Rodder, Car Craft, Super Chevy and the little 25 cent ones that fit in the rear pocket coming until the 90's when I gave all 4200 intact mags to a nephew. Golly, those days were neat! Iowa
 

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