No one says Cranston anymore. 

There’s no Cranston, no 

Polyester track suits, no big hair. 

Don’t say Cranston. 

I’ll gather 

up the AquaNet hairspray and 

half used hair gel. I’ll throw 

out the polka-dotted housedress I got from Aunt Madge. There is no more Cranston – no trips 

to the Stop ‘N Shop or Bess Eatin’ donuts. There is only Gucci and Prada and organic 

gluten-free, vegan croissants.