

(Sent in by Gary and Mary Marshall)
Long ago and far away, In a land that time forgot, Before
the days of Dylan Or the dawn of Camelot.
There lived a race of innocents, And they were
you and me, Long ago and far away In the Land of Sandra Dee .
Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born, Where navels were for oranges, And Peyton Place was porn.
For Ike was in the White House, And Hoss was on TV, And God was in his heaven In the Land of
Sandra Dee.
We learned to gut a muffler, We washed our hair at dawn, We spread our crinolines
to dry In circles on the lawn.
They all could hear us coming All the way to Tennessee ,
All starched and sprayed and rustling in the Land of Sandra Dee .
We longed for love and
romance, And waited for the prince, Then Eddie Fisher married Liz, And no one's seen him since.
We danced to "Little Darlin'", And Sang to "Stagger Lee" We cried for Buddy Holly In the
Land of Sandra Dee .
Only girls wore earrings then, And three was one too many, When only
guys wore flat-top cuts, Except for Jean McKinney.
And only in our wildest dreams Did
we expect to see A boy named George with Lipstick In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We fell for
Frankie Avalon, Annette as oh, so nice, And when they made a movie, They never made it twice.
We didn't have a Star Trek Five, Or Psycho Two and Three, Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty In the Land
of Sandra Dee .
Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, And Chester had a limp, And Reagan was
a Democrat Whose co-star was a chimp.
We had a Mr Wizard, But not a Mr T, And Oprah couldn't
talk yet In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We had our share of heroes, We never thought they'd
go, At least not Bobby Darin, Or Marilyn Monroe.
For youth was still eternal, Our
life was yet to be, And Elvis was forever, In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We'd never seen the
rock band That was Grateful to be Dead, And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson , And Zeppelins
weren't Led.
Beatles lived in gardens then, And Monkees in a tree, And Madonna was a virgin
In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We'd never heard of Microwaves, Or telephones in cars, And
babies might be bottle-fed, But they sure weren't "grown" in jars.
Pumping iron got wrinkles
out, And "gay" meant fancy-free, But dorms were never coed In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We
hadn't seen enough of jets To talk about the lag, And microchips were what was left At the bottom
of the bag.
Hardware was a box of nails, And bytes came from a flea, And our rocket ships
were fiction In the Land of Sandra Dee .
Buicks came with portholes, And side show came
with freaks, And bathing suits came big enough To cover both your cheeks.
Coke came just
in bottles, And skirts came to the knee, As Castro came to power In the Land of Sandra Dee .
We had no Crest with Fluoride, We had no Hill Street Blues, We all wore superstructure bras
Designed by Howard Hughes.
We had no patterned pantyhose Or Lipton herbal tea Or prime-time
ads for condoms In the Land of Sandra Dee .
There were no golden arches, No Perriers to
chill, Our fish were not called Wanda, And cats were not called Bill.
Middle-age was thirty-five
And old was forty-three, And ancient were our parents In the Land of Sandra Dee .
But all
things have a season, Or so we've heard them say, And now instead of Maybelline We swear by
Retin-A.
And they send us invitations To join AARP, We've come a long way, baby, From
the Land of Sandra Dee .
So now we face a brave new world In "slightly" larger jeans, And
we wonder why they're using Smaller print in magazines.
We tell our children's children of
the way it used to be, Long ago and far away In the Land of Sandra Dee .
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Music is 'Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee' from Grease
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