Things I miss:
Boys who carried paper routes and mowed lawns.
Women and girls in actual dresses.
When you seldom had to call up a corporation, but when you did you reached friendly, helpful Americans instead of recorded messages, Procrustean menus, and Hindu sing-song.
Men who walked in a congenial, alert manner rather than stumbling around with a phone in their ear.
When it was a thrill just to get a glimpse of a girl’s calves rather than see almost everything.
Fathers who left early in the morning for real work, with a serious and dignified demeanour.
Boys who played war: Americans against Indians, Gooks, and Krauts, though with high spirits rather than hatred. (Now it is multi-cultural both-sex teams with real hatred against vaguely known Middle Easterners, in undeclared perpetual war.)
Soft drinks in glass bottles pulled out of the icy water of an old-fashioned drink-box.
The great variety of delicious soft-drinks that no longer exist.
Elevators and offices without ghastly canned music.
Newspapers that had actual news and genuine opinion.
Real woods for boys to explore with real rifles. (Something Thomas Jefferson highly recommended.)
A comforting family doctor when loved ones were sick or hurt instead of multiple unknown “specialists” who can never be found or reached.
Boys who would have been ashamed to sit in front of a screen for hours.
Policemen who seemed like friends and protectors rather than storm-trooper bullies.
Children with just a few cherished toys rather than a warehouse full of electronic gadgets.
When everybody knew that politicians are crooks but it did not matter much.
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