As a Boomer, I claim Ozzie and Harriett, the Beaver and Donna Reed as friends. I whirled away countless hours hula hooping and can recall Jackie Kennedy’s and Priscilla Presley’s bouffant hair styles.

The 50s lifestyle of the Palmer family, my parents, two older brothers and me, smells of times past, perhaps with a pinch of Silly Putty. Our castle was a one-bathroom house and we owned one family car because Mom didn’t drive. We ate dinner together every night when Dad came home from work. And we didn’t know anyone who owned a dishwasher.