But, shucks, golly, GEE-WHIZ, why can’t we just turn back that wind-up CLOCK? It used to be so much fun sitting there with the fireplace blazing, listening to that shortwave old wooden radio ‘SQUACK’ and on a.m., hearing the way ‘Our Miss Brooks to old Conklin would TALK.
It used to feel so rich, MAN, shooting movies with standard 8mm. FILM. That super magic Kodak, yellow box—so much fun, MAN. Today, for some of us seniors the memories of those days are drifting IN. Splicing all those three minute flicks onto a half hour Bell and Howell REEL. Threading that “fillum” through the lens GATE. Like Hollywood directors some of us camera buffs we would FEEL. The 1950’s—and earlier- we CONTEMPLATE. Remembering telephones with party LINES, radio shows like Fred Allen and JACK BENNY, those pre-historic non-computer TIMES. Radio shows today like they used to have? There aren’t ANY!
I mean, what a switch, MAN, feeling lost if we forget our CELLPHONE. What with all those channels plus movies on DEMAND, yet often feeling, bored, MAN, some of us GROAN, all this exponential rapid change, just a tad bit tough to UNDERSTAND.
I often take the Railway Bus – 410 – which goes from Steveston village all the way to 22md Station almost to New Westminster. How those drivers manage, without hardly a break before returning again, is beyond me. The pressure to be on time and being followed by satellite…wow, have things ever changed.