Yeah, forward this to your friends

Remember the good old days?

A hamburger, fries, and a cherry Coke were just one tenth of a cent down at the soda shop (provided you were white and allowed to be served there, of course). 

Movies were better, and you could see ten of them on one Saturday afternoon at the Bijou.  In fact, they paid you to come to the show, and all the popcorn and Milk Duds you wanted were free.  All the seats were in the balcony, and the good guys always won in movies that never sucked.  The Duds were milkier, and the corn popped up fluffier.

The sky was bluer, because God loved the world more, and He figured we'd like it better.

And when you got home, the house was immaculate, because mom had seen to it while wearing a neat dress and pearls.  A five course meal was on the table when dad home at six.  Dad's martini's were good and crystal clear, and they only helped him relax.  Dad never got got drunk, or started arguing with mom that she'd burned something, because the oven was incapable of burning food, and gin never made anyone nasty. 

The food was always perfect, the expensive plates and silverware shiny.

This is because mom would be mortified to use "the bargain brand," when she washed up after dinner. 

Your homework was easy: it was arithmetic, grammar, and social studies.  School was no problem (provided you were white and allowed to be served there, of course), and you were on "the team."  The team always won its big games, and maybe you and Mary Jane went for a chocolate malt after the big game.  She'd let you hold her hand, and the malteds were chocolatier, rich and creamy and colder, because ice was colder back then.

After, you and your pals cruised the main drag in your hot rods, which had no seat belts and 900 cubic inch V-8's.  It didn't matter, of course, because gas was only 3 cents a gallon.

And gallons were bigger back then, and gas was better. 

And your car had a big back seat, so you could neck with Mary Jane Smith down at Lovers Lane..

Oh, and you didn't need condoms, because Mary Jane's gonorrhea-infected girly bits wouldn't infect you (provided you were white and allowed to be served there, of course).  And her bits were girlier, once you got past the 13 layers of undergarments, and her gonorrhea less clappy.

And if you did have to visit the doctor, he wore one of those mirror things on his head, and gave you a painless shot that made all the blisters and burning sensations go away.  This was all because of that newfangled enriched bread, and that bread was just all around better.

When you got home, mom and dad were asleep in their separate beds, having happy separate dreams.

You put on your full length pajamas, brushed your teeth with Colgate, then crawled into your mom-made bed.

If you dreamt, the dreams were all happy and colorful, like a Disney animated feature, even the wet ones.  You knew everything would be okay in the morning, because this was America.  Ike was in the White House, mothers were in the homes, and a much younger John McCain was in his prime:

 

I get so tired of wistful nostalgia, like those legion "good old days" e-mails.  This world is teetering on the brink of screwed.  We no longer have pure good and pure evil, absolute black and white.  This world is painted with a palette of greys.  We need to look forward with hope and determination, not backward with misty-eyed yearning.

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12 Responses to “Yeah, forward this to your friends”

  1. Is that Phantasm?…Awesome.Also, good other points. I always delete e-mails like that, which removes the temptation for me to respond with "Well, your generation was making the decisions. Why didn't you make it stay that way?"

  2. Nostalgia is useless in almost any form because of it's subjectiveness. I'd love to look forward with hope and determination, but when we start using our children's Discover card to pay off our Visa, it's hard for me to see hope for them for the future. It's all greys, you are most definitely right.

  3. You clearly have an eye for the finer things, my friend. That is indeed The Tall Man, ably played by Angus Scrimm. Believe it or not, his goal is to do an old-fashioned parlour comedy. I can see him in "The Importance of Being Earnest," only launching those Sentinal balls at his fellow suitors.
    This past week, I got at least three of those "Remember when" e-mails, and I snapped.

  4. Teh awesomes. I burst out laughing on the third instance of "provided you were white and allowed to be served there, of course"….

  5. Thanks Scott

  6. It was recently added to BadMovies.Org 🙂 I was refreshed.

  7. AMEN, brother! You said several mouthfuls! A whole meal, in fact!!!

  8. Thanks for waking me! 🙂

  9. Yes, it's pointless to yearn for the past when all we have is the present. Maybe those people that are moved by the 'good old days' — and the Forwards that poorly represent said days — are actually yearning for a connectedness that isn't there now. They don't realize that, so they think it has something to do with the Past.Or I could be completely full of shit.

  10. Good point re: connectedness. I think people mourn when they lose contact with large groups of people–either through death, moving, job changes, or other circumstances–and "the good old days" filter always removes memories of lonely nights and being picked last for kickball.

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