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The Good Old Days

I wonder if the 'Good Old Days' that we often long to return to were so marvellous as we like to think they were.  If you could remember the actual detail of a day, you spent 10 or 20 years ago - which I know is well nigh impossible - you would find that there were myriad's of things which annoyed and frustrated you at the time, which the memory has eliminated.   

          

   



  We forget the day to day minutiae of hold-ups, petty problems, the worries, the aggression, the nagging concerns about money, human relationships, status, and most of all the clock - that ever-present enemy of equilibrium and contentment.  Now, when we get older, the pressure is off, we're obsessed by the trivialities of life.  

     An excursion to the city centre, which was unremarkable in our younger days, takes on the dimensions of a major event.  Travel arrangements are checked and re-checked - will it rain? Shall I take the umbrella? What if the bus is late? Have I got enough petrol? What and when will I eat?  How much will it cost? Can I stand the heat or cold?  In the end, we begin to wonder if it is all worth it.  Perhaps it would be better if we stayed at home and gazed out of the window?  Read a book - or wrote a letter.