BACK TO TH’ GOOD OL’ DAYS

BACK TO TH’ GOOD OL’ DAYS
by Donna Penley

When folks get together, they seem to rotate toward
remisniscing about ‘the good old days’.  Here’s what I think of that!

Sometimes th’ conversation turns to what we’d like to do
With our lives as they now stand -- Do you do that too?
But, ya know it kind of irks me when I hear some young guy say
That he’d like to go back an live in the ‘good ol’ days’!
Yeah, it’s made some of my livin’ -- writing poems about times past
But when I hear some young whippersnapper say that, I say
“Whoa, buddy.  Not so fast!”
‘Cause ya see -- I remember hand pumps.  No hot or running water
An’ icy freezing’ bedrooms at night, an’ diving like an otter  
Into a horse tank for a summer bath.  Lye soap made by Mother
Stirred by us kids in th‘ back yard.   An’ fightin’ with my brother.
I remember sleepin’ on a screened-in porch in summer, tryin’ to keep cool
An’ home-made haircuts  in th’ kitchen while perched upon a stool
I remember drafty outhouses with th’ breeze a blowin’ through
Sometimes we had toilet paper -- if not, Montgomery Ward would do!
Oh --- it wasn’t all that bad,  I guess.  I remember catchin’ fireflys in a jar
Swimmin’ in the fishin’ hole -- wishin’ on a star
Listnin’ to th Opry on the porch with th’ neighbors gathered ‘round
Strummin guitars, sing-alongs.  An’, Saturdays we’d go to town
But, it still kinda gets my goat when I hear some young person say
That he’d like t’go back an’ live in the ’good ol’ days’
I just look at him an’ smile an’ say --
“WELL, BUDDY -- I DONE BEEN THERE!” 

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