Isn’t it funny how there are so many assorted versions of what people consider “the good old days?” I suppose it’s mostly a generational thing, based on the experiences people had during a certain period in their lives, but it’s definitely a notion that’s relative to the individual.
Although most people, as they grow older, have a combination of both good and bad fortune sprinkled here and there throughout the years, there are certainly extended periods — almost like seasons — when memories cling together, and we identify them as particularly good or bad times.
For some, it may be their early childhood or adolescent years that reflect their fondest memories, while others may recall a span of time later in life, when they were really on top of their game and things just seemed to be much easier and happier.
For me, I think of my early teenage years as the good old days mainly because I was entering a new and exciting period of independence. I was approaching the legal age of getting my driver’s license, and, like others my age, I felt invincible against the world.
I remember feeling carefree and the blissful awareness of not yet worrying about being responsible for making a living or paying bills or other burdens of adulthood. It just felt like a good time to be a kid.
Even though it was an awkward and somewhat scary time, I felt like other people were starting to treat me differently and taking me seriously, unlike when I was a child. It was also that point in life when nature shows up and opens our eyes to begin noticing the opposite sex.
Growing up in the 60s, 70s and 80s, we didn’t have any of the modern technology or conveniences that we take for granted today — and yet, we managed to survive just fine. We actually used to walk up to each other and have conversations face-to-face, instead of relying on the impersonal coldness of social media.
There’s something remarkably calming about the slower pace and simpler times of the mid-20th century, even a decade or two before my time, when all the TV broadcasts were in black and white, when most people were polite and had manners and genuinely seemed to care about each other.
Times were better when you could believe and trust what was reported on the news. It was unbiased and neutral, based strictly on the facts and not slanted to one side to advance a certain agenda. Back then, Americans could easily tell who our enemies were, and we had faith in our leaders to defend and protect us. We actually trusted the government to do what was right instead of politically correct.
We were free to be open and honest in our beliefs and what we supported. We were proud and not afraid to include prayer in schools and to mention God’s name in our rituals. We could choose to allow corporal punishment if our kids misbehaved in school, and we could vote with confidence because we knew it mattered and would be counted without corruption.
I’ve often wondered to myself, if I had the chance to swap eras and suddenly return to living in those good old days, would it be worth it? It would mean sacrificing all of the perks and comforts that have spoiled us in life today, but we would also regain so much of that lost moral value as human beings.
Thinking back in history, there are several periods that would likely never be considered the good old days, such as the Great Depression, the Vietnam War Era and other tragic points in time. Although it may not be an equal comparison, it’s hard for me to believe that anyone, years from now, will ever look back on this time and the world we live in today and call these “the good old days.”
Danny O’Fallon is the publisher of
The Columbian-Progress. He may be
reached at (601) 736-2611 or
dofallon@columbianprogress.com.
