Because of scheduling problems, the fifties did not officially begin until 1952. This, coincidentally, was the year of the 1952 presidential election campaign, in which both parties, recognizing that the nation was locked into a deadly Cold War struggle, when the slightest mistake could mean the destruction of the entire planet, nominated bald men with silly names. The Democrats went with Adlai Stevenson, a suspected intellectual, and the Republicans went with Dwight “David” Eisenhower, who was extremely popular for winning World War II and having the likable nickname “Ike,” which he got from a sound that his friend Sir Winston Churchill made just before pitching face-first into his food at a dinner party.

Going into the race, Eisenhower had a strong tactical advantage stemming from the fact that nobody, including himself, knew what his views were. But his campaign quickly became enmeshed in scandal when it was discovered that his running mate, Senator “Dick” Nixon, had received money from a secret fund. Realizing that his career was at stake, Nixon appeared on a live television broadcast and told the American people, with deep emotion in his voice, that if they didn’t let him be the vice president, he would kill his dog. This was widely believed to be the end of his career.

Nevertheless, Eisenhower, buoyed by the inspirational and deeply meaningful campaign theme “I like Ike,” won the election and immediately plunged into an ambitious and arduous schedule that often involved playing golf and taking a nap on the same day. This resulted in a humongous economic boom that caused millions of Americans to purchase comically styled big cars and hightail it to the suburbs. Thus began a Golden Era in this country that is still looked back upon with nostalgia by the millions of Americans who are involved in the manufacture and sale of nostalgia-related products.

The fifties were an extremely important cultural era, because this was the phase when the postwar “Baby Boom” generation grew up, and we Boomers are quite frankly fascinated with anything involving ourselves. Like when we started having our own babies, it was all we could talk about for years. We went around describing our child—having and child-rearing experiences in breathtaking detail, as though the rest of you had no experience whatsoever in these fields. We’re sorry if you find all this boring, but it’s not our fault that you were not fortunate enough to have been born into such an intriguing and important generation. We Can only imagine how interesting we are going to be at cocktail parties when we start getting into death.

But back to the fifties: The best archival source for accurate information about life during this era is the brilliant TV documentary series Ozzie and Harriet. From this we learn that the fifties were a time when once per week some kind of epochal crisis would occur, such as Ricky borrowing David’s sweater without asking, and it would take a half an hour to resolve this crisis, owing to the fact that the male head of household had the IQ of dirt. But other than that, life was very good, considering it was filmed in black and white.

Another important television show of the era was The Mickey Mouse Club, which made enormous cultural contributions, by which we mean: Annette Funicello. Annette had a major impact on many of us male Baby Boomers, especially the part where she came marching out wearing a T-shirt with her name printed on it, and some of the letters were considerably closer to the camera than others. If you get our drift.

But the most truly wonderful fifties show was Queen for a Day, starring Your Host, Jack Bailey. This was a kind of Game Show from Hell where three women competed to see who had the most miserable life. We are not making this show up. Contestant Number One would say something like, “Well I have terminal cancer, of course, and little Billy’s iron lung was destroyed in the fire, and ...” and so on. Everybody in the audience would be weeping, and then Contestant Number Two would tell a story that was even worse. And then Contestant Number Three would make the other two sound like Mary Poppins. After which Jack Bailey would have the members of the audience clap to show which woman they thought was the most wretched, and she would receive some very nice gifts including (always) an Amana freezer. It was fabulous television, and a nice freezer, and it remained unsurpassed until three decades later, with the emergence—probably as a result of toxic waste in the water supply—of Geraldo Rivera.

Of course television was not the only cultural contribution of the fifties. There was also the Hula-Hoop, and Marlon Brando. And let’s not forget the interstate highway system, which made it possible for a family to hop into a car in Cleveland, and a little over four hours later, find themselves still delayed by road construction just outside of Cleveland. We are still benefiting from this system.

But the significant cultural innovation of the fifties was musical—a new “sound” called “rock ‘n’ roll—an exciting, high-energy style of music that, in its raucous disregard for the gentler, more complacent tastes of an older generation, reflected the Young people’s growing disillusionment With the stultifying, numbing, bourgeois, and materialistic values of an increasingly homogeneous society through such lyrics as:

Ba bomp ba bomp bomp A dang a dang dang A ding a dong ding, Blue moon.

Of the many legendary rock “performers” to emerge during this era—”Fats” Checker, the Pylons, the Gol-Darnits, Buster and the Harpoons, Bill Hawley and the Smoots, and so on—the greatest of them all was “The King,” Elvis Presley, who went on to become the largest (Ha-ha!) (Get it?) record-seller of all time, and who is to this very day sometimes seen shopping in rural supermarkets.

So there’s no question about it: By the mid-fifties, America was definitely in a Golden Era, an era of excitement and opportunity for all citizens, regardless of race or creed or color, unless the color happened to be black. Then there was a problem. Because at the time the nation was functioning under the racial doctrine of “Separate but Equal,” which got its name from the fact that black people were required to use separate facilities that were equal to the facilities that white people kept for their domestic animals. This system had worked for many decades, and nobody saw any real reason to change until one day in 1954 when a group of outside agitators arrived from outer space to file a suit against the Topeka, Kansas, Board of Education. This led to the historic and just Supreme Court ruling, a landmark, that nobody, black or white, should have to go to school in Topeka, Kansas. Thus was born the civil rights movement—an epic struggle that has required much sacrifice and pain, but which has enabled the United States to

progress, in just three decades, from being a nation where blacks were forced to ride in the back of the bus, to being a nation where, due to federal cutbacks, there is no bus.