The Good or Bad Old days

11/30/2018

Seeing as how this is the birthday of our firstborn son (happy birthday, Steve), it is quite fitting that I should have this SIMH “Anticipation”—Carly Simon. That’s what was rolling around this morning. “These are the good old days, these are the good old days…” Well, yes, as a matter of fact they are. 

The “good old days” came from a man writing about commerce, about how trading was “back when.” Daniel DeFoe, in 1727, used the term to lament a loss of how things had been in the past. Hmm, 1727. Things had not been real good before 1727, didn’t improve after 1727, haven’t improved any generation since. Just changed. Nothing had become worse, just changed. Might have been worse for some, but things are changed in an attempt to improve. However, nothing improves: just changes. Nothing gets better, even if it’s better for some. 

We mollify our own position by crying out for change on the one hand, or crying out for staying the course, on the other. Lives become established upon certain principles or a certain “policy.” To “police” (verb) is to clean things up for them to be able to stay the same. To “politic” (verb) is to attempt to use a newly chaotic position to initiate change or stop a probable change. Now, see how well that fits into what we call “politics?” So to run for political office is to mess with the policy. Our “policies” get messed with every two years. Our Executive’s policies get mess with every four years. Our peace and our judiciary policies are more likely effected by choosing policy makers every 6 years. “We accept it!” cries one: “we reject it!” cries the other.

And, where are the “good old days?” It’s most likely back when we had our way. Or, back to a time period from which we remember only what our memory brings forward as a positive. How much more fun was the old school yard! Or, baseball was better when we weren’t so organized, when we chose up sides based on the top grip of a bat handle, when dads were only involved to stop fights!

And even when schools were not air conditioned, or even when we did have to huddle around an old steam register to find heat (if there was any.) We forget all the wishes we had then, in favor of remembering the laughs, the victories, the things we got away with! Good old days. I remember them well.

When Steve was born, we lived in a house across the street from my parents which had 3 rooms and a closet, but it had a path out back which led to the “outhouse.” (How many of you have to look that up to know what I meant?) When he was almost three months old, my dad, my brother Pete and his wife, Judy, and I went to the semi-finals of a basketball tournament and got snowed in—had to spend the night with a couple thousand of our closest friends because the roads could not be driven upon. That story sounds really unique (and it was), but I never mentioned the lack of good food, the hard bleachers to try and sleep on, nor the cold which crept in, nor the no communication with the outside world. (There was no hand held personal communication devices in 1961, one pay phone in the hallway which didn’t work because the lines were down.) Good old days. And on and on it goes.

I’ll take today. I’m old, but I’ll still take today. I have a 10 year old truck and a 16 year old car, but I have electric windshield wipers. If you’ve never driven in a rain or snowstorm with vacuum wipers, you don’t understand why today’s world is completely and utterly finer than those good old days. Seem silly? No, it is practical. I dare say Mr. Daniel DeVoe of 1727’s wish for the good old days was just as impractical as vacuum windshield wipers.

Short rant today,

Thanks for reading, the Elder