It is interesting to read what others think of the "good ole days" and what they mean to each of us. For me growing up in the 50's and 60's the "good ole days" means having the time and a place to shoot. Growing up in Wyoming you didn't have to go far out of any town to find open space to target shoot or hunt small game. I don't know how to make the inflationary comparison between then and now, but even at $1.25/hr wages, we bought .22 for 50 cents for 50 shorts, 60 cents for longs and 70 cents for LR. A brick of 500 was $5, so was a pair of blue jeans and a case of beer. We sold the rabbits we shot to a mink farmer for 50 or 60 cents each and had a great time. We bought gas for $0.29/gal. and got the oil checked and the windshield washed while someone else pumped the gas. Gun shops were well stocked with things I couldn't afford, but Dad had a 30/30 and a Remington 12ga pump and I had Mossberg .22 rifle and a Ruger MK I .22 pistol. What more did you need?
People were nicer to each other and no one I knew locked their house or their car or truck. Most pickup trucks had a 30/30 in the window and everyone stopped to help if someone had trouble on the road. People opened doors for each other and said please and thank you. We liked to talk with people face to face or on the phone. We didn't text or email cause it didn't exist. Things were more personal. We worked Monday thru Friday and sometimes Saturday, but we played Friday and Sat. night. Most went to church on Sunday and almost all stores were closed. Small corner grocery stores rotated so that someone was open on Sunday, but that was about it. We did things as a family or a group of friends, hunting, fishing, BBQ, picnics or playing baseball in the summer. Many of you will say it sounds boring or "corny", but people liked each other. We didn't hide behind high fences or double locked doors. We didn't have the choices available now and we didn't know we missed anything. After all these years I've found that accumulating stuff isn't as much fun as appreciating what little we may have. For me the good ole days are more about the life style we had without interference from Big Brother. I used to know my neighbors, but they don't want to talk these days, especially when they find out I hunt and fish. They are vegans you know. Ba hum bug. Keep your new world, it ain't worth a da**.
All it takes for tyranny to succeed is for good men to do nothing.