Dear Readers,
While waiting in line at the post office, I overheard a customer at the counter say to the clerk, “Ah, for the good old days!” to which the employee shook his head and replied in a bah-humbug voice, “There is no such thing as ‘the good old days,’ they never existed!”
Although not exactly an existential question for the ages, it got me wondering, had this USPS guy had a tragic life? Or, was he onto something? Did “the good old days” never really exist?
I decided to investigate the matter using the most scientific research methods possible. As I was walking out of the post office, I passed a middle-aged woman going in.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I smiled. “I’m conducting a survey: What does it mean to you when you hear the term, ‘the good old days?’” She hurried past me mumbling, “whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested!”
The next night I found myself sitting next to two fifth-grade boys at the local high school football game. Cory and Ben, after polishing off their pizza, popcorn, Twizzlers, and Cheetos, in between gulps of Pepsi, were kind enough to participate in my survey.
“The good old days?” joked Ben. “That’s what my parents call the days before I was born!” Cory got a good belly laugh from that.
Casting the net wider, I surveyed several dozen friends and family members, along with a few fellow latte lovers at Starbucks, all of them quite a bit older than Cory and Ben.
The results were very surprising!
About half of the respondents were angry at even the mention of the good old days; the other half were wistfully nostalgic.
The anger came mostly from the Gen X-ers, the Millennials, or the Gen Z-ers who said the good old days were, “When people could buy their first home before they were 50!” and “When you didn’t need thousands of dollars in student loans to get through college!” They believed the good old days had existed, and they felt cheated for having missed them.
Quite a few of us Boomers were angry too, but for different reasons. For some of our generation, the good old days were “The conservative white picket fence view of life which secretly discriminated against everyone else” and “It’s a fictional time where we want to believe . . . that all was good with the world, sort of like believing we could live life as shown on The Andy Griffith TV show.” These folks resented what they perceived as hypocrisy and the big lie about the reality of life.
The non-angry half of respondents who waxed wistful and sentimental said, “Fourth of July picnics with my cousins at our grandparents farm” and “When I could run a mile instead of barely walking a few blocks” to “Dime store candy . . . summer mornings when I would head off on my bike with a sack lunch, and not return until dinner time.”
Many in this group remarked that “the world was more peaceful” and “we felt safe back then.”
Good and bad
I’ve decided the survey can be summarized by the famous words of Charles Dickens who began A Tale of Two Cities with, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
In every age throughout history, human life has always been and will always be a mixture of pain and joy, suffering and celebration, bad times and good times.
As I write this, the world is on the brink of World War III, but for Cory and Ben, their world is not; they do not know nor do they need to know about the current crisis in the Middle East.
Someday, those two boys will look back on the fall of 2024 as part of the good old days, brisk Friday nights at a high school football game free from parental supervision but with enough money for great snacks and a good friend with whom to share it all.
The Cuban Missile Crisis occurred in October of 1962, the same date the wildly popular Andy Griffith Show was premiering its third season. I was seven years old then and had no idea how close we were to World War III. I do not believe the writers of that show were trying to force a false view of reality on us. Instead, I think it’s because they were aware of what was going on in the world that they chose to offer our parents a respite from the mounting fear and anxiety, an offer of hope for what the world could and should be like.
Shows like The Andy Griffith Show highlighted the importance of faith, family, friendship, and — are you listening, lady in the post office parking lot? — kindness.
Certainly, the old days were simpler days. Can we all at least agree, dear Readers, that the days gone by, whether good or bad, were simpler than they are today?
This morning, I was going through the cable guide trying to find today’s Indiana University football game. (Once a Hoosier, always a Hoosier!) I finally found it after 48 minutes of scrolling through 147 channels of programs, the majority of which, although nothing like the Pollyanna-ish Andy Griffith Show, are nonetheless just as unrealistic because of their extremely violent and mature content.
Back in the good old days, there were only three choices for after-school television viewing: The Three Stooges, Superman, or Queen for the Day.
Occasionally we would watch a bit of The Three Stooges while finishing our Oreos and milk, but we usually just turned off the boob tube and went outside to play. And I think we were better off for it.
Let us be thankful
As Thanksgiving approaches, there are two songs meandering through my reverie; both provide a lot to chew on when considering for what we should be truly thankful.
The first is that old Shaker hymn, “Tis the gift to be simple, tis the gift to be free . . . When true simplicity is gained . . . we shan’t be ashamed.”
The second song is a more modern melody, one mentioned by a neighbor in her response to my survey.
In “Anticipation,” Carly Simon sings, “. . . And stay right here, ‘cause these are the good old days. These are the good old days. These are the good old days . . .”
I’m sure Cory and Ben would agree.
Linda E. Kelly is a member of Blessed Sacrament Parish in Madison.