#21 ·
Richard Wilson4 said:Yeah, and you were also 8 inches taller and packing 4 inches more meat.
Your car used to hover, your wife had massive boobs, and beer flowed straight from the bathroom faucet while champagne poured out of the shower head.
Steak, lobster, and caviar were basically what construction workers ate for lunch.
Well, if we’re being completely honest... there was plenty more to it than that. For instance, I could easily afford a car back then, and while beer did flow freely in the restroom—though maybe not directly from the tap—I always had access to enough rounds of drinks, something I can't say for sure today. Back then, I could land a job through a college connection without breaking a sweat, which meant I could work hard for two weeks and easily fund three weeks of vacation on the coast (just try doing that in this economy).
I wasn't a laborer, so I didn't live on fancy prosciutto or gourmet cheeses, but we always had more than enough ham, smoked sausages, and bacon to go around; besides, caviar and champagne are a bit too precious for my taste anyway.
My equipment was certainly a bit more active in those days, though I can't really complain about it now, and it wasn't that women's breasts were larger, they were just positioned higher up. But honestly, the best part of all was that I wasn't married yet, which is a pretty great reason to feel nostalgic on its own.
Look, don't be so paranoid; it's perfectly natural for someone to look back on their youth with a bit of nostalgia once they reach a certain age. All those old movies on local cable, the music from back then, the sports, and the general vibe of the old country—everyone enjoyed some part of that era.
For example, I spent nearly three years serving in the trenches of the Midwest and the Mississippi Delta, and unlike almost 55% of voters in America, I actually made the effort to show up for the European Union referendum to vote against what felt like a surrender of our sovereignty. I’ve never cast a vote for people like Ivica Račan, Zoran Milanović, or Vesna Pusić, and heaven knows I didn't vote for Ivo Sanders or Jadranka Kosor either. That said, in all honesty, I still love catching an old movie on a classic channel, I enjoy listening to rock from the seventies and eighties, and I feel a sense of nostalgia for Sunday afternoons watching matches from the old football league. If anyone wants to label me a "American sympathizer" because of that, it doesn't bother me one bit—my gear is still holding up just fine. Such easy labeling and paranoia usually says much more about the person making the accusation than it does about me.