I was with a couple of friends at a restaurant coffee table when a lady I did not know stopped to suggest that I not stop writing about the good old days.
It was sort of a surprise because the nice lady did not appear to be old enough to know a lot about such times.
Back home and with my laptop in front of me, I began to wonder again about good old days and people in general.
And it struck me with a sizable impact that good old days are not simply the formative years of some old man who can't pass a cemetery without a little concern. How can a person not nearly that old appreciate what I write about my good old days.
A temporary escape from modernization, I suppose, is not reserved for the old.
Regardless, I thanked the nice lady for her kind remarks and spent the next few minutes feeling pretty good about myself. If an aged writer like myself can entertain somebody by digging into the past, then why not have at it?
There is, however, a problem with it.
There is only so much you can say about a home without a television or a radio that picked up only one station. A single light bulb hanging down from the center of a ceiling can't stir up much excitement. A backyard with nothing more than a coal shed to look at can't make anybody jealous.
Still, life is life, regardless of where it's lived or at what monetary level. Anything better will have to wait for dreams to come true or ambitions to flourish. Wealthy can be a pocket filled with marbles or an everyday breakfast of homemade biscuits and grease gravy.
Happiness can be a Sunday walk to a park or a beautiful mother telling you with all of the assurance in the world that life is what you make it. Depending on your willingness to strive to work for something better, poverty is not all that bad to look back on.
As a very young boy, I had some very young friends that I have not seen since. I don't know whatever happened to them or if they are still living. But I do wish we could again get together and talk about those days when it was never difficult finding ways to have fun and planning on something even better for tomorrow.
Even on this rainy day in 2019 that possible something still leaves a warm feeling. Long lives are built on something better for tomorrow and using the past to make it happen.
A single light bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling was a beautiful thing because it helped light up the future. It brought about television, AM-FM radios, cell phones and more dreams.
What it didn't do was stop our love for homemade biscuits and grease gravy.
Have a nice day, nice lady, and remember that if it wasn't for the past you would never know a tomorrow.
Oh, and by the way. All good old days do not have to be anchored by poverty. That condition just happened to be a major part of mine and I enjoy having survived it nicely. And I learned that from my mom.