Nostalgia

I recently had a revelation about the full depth of the term nostalgia.   I mistakenly believed that I understood it and had felt it as far back as my college years.  Like many graduates, I would long for the simpler times of high school: hanging out with no structured agenda, seeing best friends on a daily basis, worrying about trivial things like the importance of finding a date for an upcoming function.

It’s pretty normal to go through a modest mourning period when it sets in that an era of one’s life has come to an end.  The American Heritage Dictionary defines nostalgia as “a bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.”  But while I had had the experience of longing to re-live certain eras of my life, I had only applied that definition on a micro level.

One day while doing my routine online socializing, I stumbled upon a “group” composed of people who had grown up in my hometown.  After joining it, I became engrossed in reading the recollections of other people (most of whom I had never met and others I had known only casually) who were asking if anyone else remembered this place or that: the drug store where kids played arcade games, the local five-and-dime store, the old bike path in the woods (the one that had long since been turned into an apartment complex), etc.  There was mention of some local businesses that had been downtown for generations (many of them having closed up in the last ten years due to the economic downturn).  Some other landmark locations of my hometown were remembered by different names, depending on which decade the person was talking about.

While I was indulging myself in this group (reading posts, replying to some, offering up my own memorable places and events), a sudden realization set in.  There were so many experiences of my childhood that my kids will never know.  I was a child of the 1970’s, a teenager of the 1980’s, and a young adult of the 1990’s.  When looking at how society has changed (not simply my hometown, but most suburban neighborhoods, I suspect), I don’t simply lament those young innocent days that I’ll never get back…I lament that no one will ever get those days to experience…ever again.

When I was elementary school age---growing up in an average middle class townhouse neighborhood---my parents would throw open the door, kick us out for exercise and fresh air, and tell us to be home for dinner at 6pm.  Now, unless you live in a gated community, who gives their kids free reign like that anymore?  When I was a pre-teen, I got a bicycle for a present; I don’t recall ever owning a helmet…or knee pads…or elbow pads.  When I was a teenager, it seemed like 50% of people (teens and adults alike) smoked cigarettes---and yes, there were still “smoking sections” in restaurants, airplane cabins, etc.  Now, due to the limited public places where smoking is permitted and the increasing costs, it’s certainly not nearly as common or socially accepted a vice as it used to be.

I also remember when my father brought home our first VCR (that’s video cassette recorder, for my younger readers) allowing us to watch poor quality films in the comfort of our own homes and to record even poorer quality copies of television shows.  My daughter has never known television that you couldn’t pause, restart, and rewind at will…and in high definition.

There are already numerous writings (usually in the form of circulated e-mail forwards) on how things have changed since you were a kid (in the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, etc.), so I’m not looking to re-hash all the same observations.  I’m not even going to defend the above-mentioned examples as “Oh, it was a better, more innocent time.”  Quite frankly, it’s a positive change that less people view smoking as an acceptable vice.  It’s good that safety equipment prevents injuries and even premature deaths.  And keeping your children under a closer eye can be logically explained by the number of abduction stories we grew up seeing on television.

When I was younger, I had illusions of saving my toys, games, videos, etc. to share with the children that I would one day have.  How naïve was I?  On a recent visit to my parents’ house, my father pulled out a bag of stuffed animals (hoping that my sister or I would take them with us instead of expecting him to continue warehousing them).  All I could see was a pile of dust-traps and choking hazards.  When I look at the old baby furniture that we used, all I can think of is the number of children who died when similar models collapsed…leading to numerous lawsuits and improved safety standards.

If I pull out a DVD of one of my favorite childhood shows to watch with my three year old, I can’t get her to sit still and watch it because the picture quality is too grainy, and the show doesn’t have enough “eye candy” for her.  I remember scoffing when I heard that the DVD releases of early seasons of Sesame Street had parental warnings.  And then I realized how little concern there was back then for puppet characters to be smoking a pipe.  I watch old episodes of The Muppet Show and can’t help but notice how often Miss Piggy hits people…and gets a laugh from the studio audience.

Now, when people comment about how today’s kids are too over-protected and they use expressions like, “Well, we turned out okay,” I find myself responding with, “Really?  Did we?”  How many of our parents’ contemporaries lost a child prematurely to faulty furniture, opportunistic kidnappers, secondhand smoking-related diseases, or a lack of effective child car seats?  How many of our generation are still trying to quit smoking (or have died in their thirties or forties as a result of it)?  How many still have unresolved anger issues after having seen violence as an acceptable response to stressful situations?

So when I take all of the positives and negatives into account, I can’t really lament the passage of time or the changes to our society.  But I can still mourn the end of an era.  It was an era that helped form my identity…as a member of the American suburban culture of the late 20^th century.  Admittedly, my lament might not be as pronounced if I had grown up in that era as a person of color, a homosexual, or even a woman (a thought I can’t escape…as I prepare my three daughters for this new society which has reduced---if not eliminated---the inequities that my contemporary females have faced).

I do feel a little sad that my children’s experiences in the 2010s/2020s will only slightly overlap with what I experienced.  But I will move on to the stage where I can simply cherish the memories of that era in my life, accepting that it has passed on just as the grandparents, teachers, and other important influences from that time have done.  And embrace the challenge of documenting that era in my writings.  After all, I can and will always look back with nostalgia.

Besides, I don’t want to give up my smart phone.