“Do What I Say!” (growing up in the 1980s)
Updated: Aug 17
“Now, what the heck did I say?” “I forgot. Because you made me forget.”
We were given instructions. We didn't always understand them. Somehow they became part of us anyway.
Take 1.
The tightly twisted corded yellow wall phone rings.
Not a ringtone.
An actual ring.
Two real metal bells hammering away inside the plastic housing while the volume lever on the side sat pushed all the way up because missing a phone call in the 1980s apparently meant societal collapse.
Who could it be?
Mom? A stranger?
Or worse…
One of your friends’ parents.
Quick!
Run to the wooden console TV and push in the giant knob on the right to shut off Super Friends before the caller hears it blaring in the background.
You can watch it later. ...Growing Up in the 1980s.
Maybe.
“Hello…” (sheepishly)
“Hi, this is Mrs. ___ . Is your mother home?”
“She’s in the shower.”
(She’s absolutely not. She’s sitting in a cubicle ten miles away at work.)
“Is your father home?”
“He’s cutting the lawn.”
(It’s December 3rd.)
“Okay, I’ll call back later.”
“Bye.”
And scene.
Being a latchkey kid meant raising yourself in a thousand small ways after unlocking that heavily paint-coated front door every afternoon.
During those few unsupervised hours between school and dinner, you operated mostly from pre-programmed "Do what I say!" instructions that had been drilled into your head or taped directly onto the burnt-yellow refrigerator every 1980s kitchen seemed to have.
Most of those instructions came with an implied threat of punishment from a parent, teacher, neighbor, or some mysterious authority figure that apparently knew everything.
You were expected to:
remember things
answer correctly
stay invisible
not burn the house down
Sometimes your parents would even randomly call the house in a so obviously fake voice, just to make sure the fort was still operational.
And the old folks always had sayings.
So many sayings.
Some were passed down through generations.
Others sounded like they came directly from Archie Bunker’s living room.
“Sit down and shut up.”
“Be seen, not heard.”
“Respect your elders.” Like we lived in a longhouse.
“Take a sweater — you might need it.” “You can’t put on what you don’t have!”
“Don’t throw it away — you might need it someday.”
“Finish your plate.”
At the time, a lot of those phrases felt harsh, confusing, repetitive, or strangely theatrical.
I think many of them were attempts to create order, safety, and structure while parents were stretched thin trying to hold everything together.
Does that mean we all understood the messaging perfectly?
Absolutely not.
I’ll probably need a psychiatrist to decode half of it.
Still… somehow the programming stuck.
Looking back, those sayings weren't always right, and we certainly didn't always follow them. But they became part of the operating system, running quietly in the background.
Years later, I still hear those voices when I'm fixing something, making a decision, or trying to figure things out on my own.
Which, now that I think about it, is probably the most Generation X thing imaginable.
My favorite “family lesson” quote actually came years later from Arrested Development:
“And that’s why you always leave a note.”
That probably explains the benefit of family communication better than anything else from my childhood.
Here’s to surviving whatever the heck was thrown at us.
It built character…
I think?
Then again, maybe character is just what happens when nobody is around to tell you what to do and you're left to figure it out yourself.
Thanks for being here.
— Latchkey Boys
What color was your kitchen rotary phone?
Yellow
Brown
Pink
Black
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