The “Good Ol’ Days”
Sometimes, probably too often, I think that I was born at the wrong time. There’s something about days gone by that feel just a bit more familiar. The cars, the clothes, the music, the movies, the books, the life. The sense of possibility and wonder, things being not so sideways, so heavy. The way things seemed to move just a bit slower. But the truth is I’d feel just as out of place, just as unsettled, then as I do now. And how easy I forget how much worse things were for so many. And all those things I look back on I probably would have taken for granted or missed out on completely. Those days had their own problems, their own weight just the same. And the people then complained about how fast everything was moving and how it just wasn’t like the “good ol’ days.”