I listened to a Meghan Daum essay the other day where she rattled on about people who reminisce with longing for days gone by. I could hear Bruce Springsteen belting out “Glory days” on my inner jukebox.

I have family members who sometimes claim how much better life was, how much better people behaved back in the good old days. I often respond with a comeback tailored to the lament at hand like:

Unless you were black, or
Unless you were a woman, or
Unless you needed effective cancer treatment, or
Unless you had asthma or just wanted to breath clean air in a city, on a plane, or in a restaurant, or
Unless you were killed by a drunk driver who only got a slap on the wrist.

Sometimes the complaint is that U.S. politics have never been so polarized as nowadays. “Did you ever have a history class?” I think to myself.

It’s not that I think things are rosy or that there haven’t been times where folks were more courteous and open to compromise, but we’re not engaged in a civil war. Things have been worse. Much much worse.

When I was a kid, Mother used to say things like, “I wish you and your sister had stayed little.” Or, “I wish I’d never left North Carolina,” to which I would whine in reply, “But then you’d never have had me” (because she met my dad in Michigan).

Maybe Mother didn’t seek another time, just another locale and daughters who stayed ages two and four forever. Mother’s real dream-come-true would have been going forward in time, to the era of effective birth control, to a time when she wouldn’t have to give up her good paying job because “the men” were returning from the war.

I often see posts and memes about the good old days on social media where many folks seem to long to return to earlier times.

Here’s a terribly poor poem posted on Facebook with 223 likes and comments like “So true!” and “Miss those days!”

Well, here is one wife who would not have been content with that lot. We’d never heard of anorexia when I was a kid but my sister still suffered from it. Uh, yeah, I think a lot of initiative was destroyed.

At least the post didn’t have thousands of likes.

You’ve no doubt realized, I’ve never been one for nostalgia, even though I appreciate much from my past.

My tolerance for music popular when I was young is limited to about ten minutes recorded or a few hours live, if, and only if, performed by a friend. You would never find me paying for tickets to hear a tribute band.

I can’t think of any clothing styles I’d bring back. Well, I love Victorian dresses from before my time, but you wouldn’t catch me dead in a corset.

Here’s something I’m nostalgic for-- the skin and knees of my thirties. However, I would not want to BE thirty.

There are past moments I cherish—nursing my son, deep conversations with Mother, snuggling my baby grandson and his baby laughs, witnessing the birth of my niece and then her daughter’s birth, camping with the kids—but I don’t long to return to all the life that surrounded those precious moments.

AI, there’s one thing that didn’t exist in the past. Maybe I need AI to help me understand other folks’ longings for the past. I asked Bard for advice. This is what it said:

Many people find themselves feeling nostalgic for the past, even if it wasn't always perfect.

There are a number of reasons why we might long for the good old days. For some, it's a way of escaping from the challenges of the present. For others, it's a way of connecting with our childhood and our roots. And for still others, it's a way of remembering a time when we felt more hopeful and optimistic about the future.

Whatever the reason, it's important to remember that the past is gone. We can't go back and change it. But we can learn from it. And we can use our memories of the good old days to help us create a better future.

Damn. Bard is more of a Budha than I am today. Maybe feeling overwhelmed with what one faces can result in a longing for the past. It doesn’t mean one is a smoker, a drunk driver, an ignorant bigot and/or a transphobic misogynist.

Open heart, open mind. Ommmmm.

But getting back to me…these are my glory days. Menopause took away decades of depression. Slow and steady saving allowed me to retire comfortably; I do what I want with my time. Therapy and the wisdom shared with me through books help me deal with the stress life sometimes presents.

These days, I’m enjoying fairly calm waters, but as fellow blogger Helen at Ageless Possibilities wrote a couple of weeks ago, “I am paddling north. I am thankful the waters are calm, knowing rapids may await me around the next bend.”

There will definately be rapids. There could be another loss of abilities, another body part going wonky. Sooner or later, another loved one will die (unless I go first). Nonetheless, these are my glory days.

And I’ll keep working on having an open mind about other folks yearning for the good old days (but I won’t do it listening to Aerosmith, Three Dog Night, or Fleetwood Mac).

Well, maybe a little Fleetwood Mac. Or Cat Stevens. Or Carol King. Just a little….

But then again, here’s something kinda new from Kate Taylor (sister of James):

Glory Days

Buddy and Bobby

Post Plague Report #1