I, like many people, belong to a "my hometown" type Facebook group. It is a fun way to look at old photographs from my hometown as well as keeping tabs on the latest deaths in my age group. One thing I have noticed is that things get better in the fog of past remembrances.
Corner stores with grouchy owners and overpriced items become the shrines to a neighborhood and a friend of all the kids who came by. We remember the ice cream sundaes but forget getting kicked out because we dallied too long in front of the Playboys.
Intolerably long days in schools with teachers we hated become those fond days where we learned so much and gained a respect for history that we never lost. Tedious afternoons in Spanish class become temples where we learned a language that we were so happy to have when haggling over blankets in Guadalajara.
I'm sorry but that old diner that everybody was lamenting went out of business when us baby boomers discovered MacDonald's. Fat Mikes went out of favor when they lowered the drinking age and we could go to bars. Downtown died when the malls opened. And now we are nostalgic about those haunts of yesteryear.
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