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We all know people who live too much in the past. Too much history, too much remembering, can ultimately destroy the present... and the future.
Paul Spector, The Fall
I hate how you meet people that leave a mark on your heart and when they leave that feeling can still reappear years later and you still feel and remember the good times you had but then the pain of what you remembered that happened between you two stings again.
I scan my Facebook feed about once a day. I have the pages Iâm most interested in (NPR, New York Times, National Geographic... yes, Iâm a liberal) set to show first, and I often stop looking once my âfavoritesâ are finished rolling through new stuff. If Iâm actually on the computer instead of the tablet or phone, I might keep scrolling because I just canât seem to stop myself.Â
Whenever something tragic happens, I see a preponderance of âWhen I was young...â, âWhen I was growing up...â posts and it finally hit me today... They might as well say, âWhen the world was new...â because anyone 40 and older comparing today to 30 years ago is just going to be comparing apples and oranges.Â
For nostalgiaâs sake, itâs nice to see the âWhen I was young, we stayed out until dark and drank from the garden hose. We came in when the street lights came on...â posts. Yeah, thatâs what it was like in 1980.Â
All the circumstances that allowed us to live that life in the â80s have changed. No one in their right mind would allow their children to play outside out of the yard or out of visual range today. Why? Oh, murderers, rapists, child abductors, speeding cars, distracted drivers. No parent would calmly accept that their teenager and her cousin rode their bikes 12 miles roundtrip on streets without sidewalks to visit their grandparents without telling anyone. No one even allows children under 13 to walk to a bus stop alone anymore (or sometimes to walk at all â there are always cars converged around the entrance of my community in mornings and afternoons).Â
Video games were just coming out. Cable TV was still a novelty in our area and not everyone had it. There were no cell phones or even cordless phones. VCRs and microwave ovens were just beginning to hit mainstream, and the prices were just starting to not be astronomical. If I wanted to talk on the phone, the phone was in the kitchen, in a public area, and if my parents needed it, I better hang up.Â
The main form of social pressure was from kids at school. Todayâs kids have social media, are plugged in all the time, have information a few keystrokes away, fill their free-time with screens and screens and screens. The conveniences that their parents feel were âhard wonâ and that they couldnât do without any longer are the basics of their childrenâs lives. To compare my upbringing to the upbringing of a teenager of todayâs world is unfair to todayâs children.
Yes, teach respect. Exemplify a good work ethic. Show fiscal and personal responsibility. Embrace technology, but donât let it replace human interaction. Just donât expect todayâs children to behave the way children did 20, 30 or 40 years ago. The world is not the same. The world is smaller.Â
And donât forget, todayâs children are a product of their parents and grandparents. A disrespectful child is taught by distracted parents who were brought there by indulgent grandparents. This may be the true meaning of trickle down.Â
The problem with everyone wanting things to be âlike the old days,â is no one is willing to give up the things they would need to, to make that a reality. So stop comparing today to 1955 and todayâs kids to 1980â˛s kids.
Straight up, I need to learn how to let go of shit from my past. I could do great things for myself if I can just learn to move on.

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have not been on/posted on tumblr in a while. Â but am currently home alone and listening to music i downloaded 2 summers ago partially because thatâs all i have on my computer and partially because iâve been having thoughts of that june. Â the hot night air reminding me of when i didnât have an air conditioner, let alone a window in my walkthrough bedroom, three stories up. Â that patterned couch and green table, awkward climbs through the window next to the stove, watching the sunset over the williamsburg bridge. lonely walks to the supermarket. Â i lived off bananas, baked beans, potatoes, broccoli, and tofu for a month. Â barely having moved out of my parentsâ house, my clothes and books and alcohol were all stacked on my one piece of furniture: my dadâs yellow-painted bookcase.
Youâre doing the best you can. Itâs okay. Take a deep breath and keep trudging on.
I kinda wish I said it now. But it's too late, you're half a world away.