Opinion

OPINION | GARY SMITH: The “Good Old Days” can be hard to find, but they’re still around for someone

But they’re going on all the time, even now

The time frame might not be exactly right since it was so far back in the past, but as best I can recall, it happened about three weeks ago for a solid afternoon. For a few hours, I had the Good Old Days.

You know, the Good Old Days, that largely mythical period when things were great, everyone was happy, the world was at peace, cattle were fatter, crops grew taller, athletes were better and we all minded our elders? It was that period you look back 10 years later (if you're lucky) and say, "Back then, we had it made."

Yeah, the Good Old Days. Except, in our newly compressed time period, the Good Old Days lasted about four hours.

But for those four hours, things were good.

The CDC had decided we didn't need to wear masks, but I could still use covid-19 as an excuse not to go to parties, Russia was still making ridiculous demands instead of conducting a ridiculous and tragic invasion, gas was high but not in "second-mortgage" territory, my favorite team hadn't traded away its Super Bowl-winning quarterback and we weren't going to get snowed on in March.

And then, we went from "Life is good" to "Life happens." And stayed there. And probably will for at least the foreseeable future. Provided we all have one.

I know, I know: All of those things aren't the same degree of tragic or stressful. Yes, the departure of your quarterback to another team isn't anywhere near on par with the tragedy in Ukraine, even in SEC country. Yes, to some degree, I whine. And I don't even get cheese and crackers with it.

But as we've discussed previously, one of the challenges we face with tragedy these days is that it's sort of like allergies: up to a certain point, your body can handle it. But just a little bit more pollen and you're miserable. War, famine and inflation I've learned to accept. Add runaway gas prices or a supply-chain shortage of my favor cereal and all the cards come crashing down.

Which is why the Good Old Days – all four hours of them – were so important to me. For an afternoon, all was right with the world. And then the world right-hooked me.

I do appreciate that the thing about Good Old Days is that the connotation is fairly subjective. I grew up in the '60s. The Good Old Days for me meant I learned to ride a bike, Mom made spaghetti fairly frequently and I had a great backyard for Wiffle Ball.

Meanwhile, in the real world, we were fighting the Cold War and in Vietnam, cities were burning as a result of violent protests and a cancer diagnosis was basically fatal.

So the Good Old Days may be more a matter of perspective and exposure. And not really understanding why they were telling us to climb under our desks during nuclear attack drills.

Still, the "one more thing" aspect of this all can be pretty overwhelming. I mean, I'm not fine with them, but if we can just stay on subject with inflation and Jan. 6, I can handle it. Start throwing in supply chain, lingering covid, war in Europe, the last season of "Ozark," my quarterback issue, North Korean missile launches, gas prices and anything else that pops up on the radar and nightly news and I don't want to hide under my desk so much as I want to hide under the covers.

The thing is, I've got grandkids (I've also got kids, but at this point, they're on their own when it comes to Good Old Days. And Easter baskets). For those grandkids, yep, these are their Good Old Days. Ice cream at the grandparents. Movie night. Family vacation. They've adjusted to things like masks and at-home learning and adults acting like children. We just have to make sure they get to act like kids.

The world could and very well might be falling apart, but this is the only childhood they're going to get, the only Good Old Days they're going to get to remember. They'll be as afraid as we are. And as happy as we make it possible for them to be.

So, I do what I can to make the world a better place. I donate and work and pray and hope and try not to complain. At least not too much.

I got four hours of Good Old Days a few weeks ago. I need to make sure the grandkids get a lot more.

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