The way it was

 There has been a continual argument for much of the past several years about how many who reside in this country would like to to return to a simpler time. Some use the mantra, make American great again, or MAGA. The fighting that has become of this has torn this country apart.

Here's my take on this and what it means to me, and I think many others.

There are plenty of sins hidden in the past of every country that was ever on the face of the earth. The US is no exception. Some of it is the fault of everyday people and some of the issues are the direct result of the government. Those are the things that we should all look back on with utter disdain. There is no reason to treat someone poorly because of the color of their skin. These things should never be gone back to.

What I would like to return to is simple. Gone are the days when little boys had paper routes. They were up in the morning or waiting in the paper shack after school waiting for the truck to come so they could do their work. You opened the door and gave them a couple bucks for payment. Now, it is an adult hired out.

Those same kids earned money in the neighborhood because they cut grass, or they shoveled snow, or they raked the leaves of the neighbors. That doesn't happen any longer.

We used to ride our bikes miles away from home without adult supervision. My friends and I were out all day and we went home when we knew dinner was nearly on the table. You can't do that now either.

It seems too that the days of kids playing on the court or football in the grassy lot a few blocks over without adult supervision is a thing of the past. We would play ball and my brother and I would end our part of the game when my mother walked out onto the back porch and literally rang a bell. Every kid in the neighborhood knew what that meant for us.

Perhaps it is just the fancy of a man who is aging and remembers what it was like in the days of his youth when the future didn't involve a world outside his neighborhood, or the next neighborhood over. These are the times many of us want to return to; feel the pull that we as adults could leave our children and our grandchildren. With all its flaws and imperfections, that is the world we long for.

One of my best friends was a black boy who to this day I call a friend. Though miles and almost two states apart, I could sit down with him today and have a conversation with him like we saw each other last week. I last saw him over twenty years ago and I remember his smile. It was a smile that captivated a room. He didn't care I was white and I didn't care he was black. 

I'll bet he still has that smile.