The Good Old Days

Back in my day, yes, I miss those days. I wish we could turn back time to the good old days. When our momma sang us to sleep, but now they are stressed out. My curfew was lighting bugs not alarms. My parents didn’t call my cell, they yelled my name. I played outside and not online. If I did not eat what my mom cooked, I did not eat at all. I’m beginning to think we were the last generation to embrace the outdoors. Today’s kids are couch potatoes.

Back in my day, men were men in-deed and were married by women deserving of them. Not these chewing gum boys and Instagram girls who can not even cook a happy meal. I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you left them. Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory. I’m pretty sure things were not as rosy as I imagine. We all wanted to grow up so bad. Now look at us.

Funny how time goes by, and blessings are missed in the wink of an eye. Why should one have to go on suffering? When every day I pray please come back to me. I wish my book of life were written in pencil, there are a few pages I’ll like to erase. All the time spent in traffic and banking halls top that list. I remember the good old days when ‘snap, crackle and pop’ were sounds I heard from my cereal and not my body. Cocaine, heroin, morphine, and opium? Oh, we called that medicine. Looking at an old picture and wishing you could go back to that moment. I still don’t understand why I was so excited to ride a bicycle. Now the thought of pedaling crosses my mind and I shudder. All that effort! Getting excited for ice cream is something I can get behind. Only to open the case and find lots of needles and different colors of thread.

Hard to believe I once had a phone attached to a wall. When it rang, I would pick it up without knowing who was calling. Amazing I’m still alive. I miss those days when I could just throw someone into the pool without having to worry whether they had their phone in their pocket. I miss the good old days when I used to do things instead of just reminisce and bask in the nostalgia. The best thing about the good old days was that I was not good, and I was not old.

Kids today are so weak. Back in the day if you were playing football and you stubbed your toe, you carried on like nothing happened. Essentially you tricked yourself into postponing the pain so that it can coincide with when your parents are giving you an arse-whooping for coming home late. Back when I was young, if you got into a car accident, you just died, and did not complain. None of this snowflake nonsense you see today. Kids crying because they lost a limb? Pathetic.

The good old days are now. In the good old days, you could go into a store with some change and get a loaf of bread, a crate of eggs, a watermelon and a brand new bike. But today, nope, you can’t do that. There’s just way too many surveillance cameras. Remember the good old days before Facebook, Instagram and Twitter? When you would take a picture of your dinner on disposable camera, go and get the photos developed, then go round to your friends houses and show them all the photo? No? Me neither. Stop it!

Oh to be a kid again! As a kid I used to talk to the fan to hear my robotic voice. I’d also look forward to my birthday. These days, birthdays are a constant reminder that evil exists in this world and that we are born to die. Time is running out for the adult and there’s very little to show for it. The kids are here to replace us. The old man lying down can’t see shit anymore, he has glaucoma. We were flying kites as kids, kids these days are flying drones with smartphones. I say maybe just maybe, nostalgia aside, childhood wasn’t as great.

Childhood is like being drunk. Everyone remembers what you did except you. The other day mom told me a bizarre tale. Dad got back from a trip with a heap of bananas. He cut several bunches and left them in the living room. Now here comes the part. According to her account, I woke in the middle of the night, walked into the living room and attacked the bananas. I kept eating, so much so that even though I became full, I still kept going. Only this time with a slight variation. I’d open the banana, eat it halfway and throw the rest away. It was allegedly a huge mess. I simply refuse to believe such a thing happened. Especially for my sanity. Am I a monkey perhaps?

Thankful. I’m thankful that my childhood was filled with bruises from playing outside, instead of apps and how many likes you can get on a picture, or views on your Tik Tok. I imagine myself as a kid trying to make TikTok videos to fit in, borderline disgusting. In this day and age, I’d have been a hermit kid. My all time favorite childhood memory is not paying bills. I went grocery shopping the other day, got to the counter, turned around and started putting stuff back in the shelf. How our parents kept us well fed is still a mystery!

Good days, bad days, and old days. The purpose of our lives is to be happy. Everything is changing, people are taking the comedians seriously and the politicians as a joke. As a nine year old, I remember thinking if I was kissed as a girl, I would get pregnant. Turned out I was right, even mere hugging could do the trick. Some days I wish I could go back in life. Not to change anything, but to feel a few things. Twice.