Why Can't Things Be Like They Use To . . .

Why Can’t Things Be Like They Use To?

That’s easy we only remember the good things . . . We had dreams.

When I was a boy in the sixties, we had civil unrest. What’s civil unrest? People weren’t happy and they picketed for change. A war was being fought. Only they called it a police action and there was a draft . . . And draft dodgers went to Canada, College or the National Guards. Everyone knew that if you’re parents had position or money, chances are you weren’t going to the Nam.

And there were marches, riots and shootings on campuses. Civil Unrest . . . Negroes, the colored marched, then it was blacks and they fought for change, because they were required to sit in the back of the bus . . . Use separate doors, separate restaurants and separate washrooms. And there was civil disobedience, riots, and shootings.

And still I remember it as being a more relaxed, peaceful time. It doesn’t make sense and yet it does. Businesses were closed on Sundays. Children were bused to churches on Thursdays for religion classes. And television taught us right from wrong. There were cigarette commercials on T.V. and then they were banned. And then things started to change . . .

And we were kids . . . Drank beer on Friday nights, did pranks that today would get us thrown in the pen. I was a jock, a basketball player. Everyday we played on the playground with cops, pimps, drug dealers, and derelicts of all kinds. The stories I could tell . . .

And somebody was always there to give us a second chance. you see they remembered their own childhood unlike our selves. Fighting got us boxing gloves rather than suspensions and our parents fines . . . Sure the bad ones went to the boys homes . . . The real bad ones went to the toughest of them, Boys Town. And yea I knew one that went there, but I also knew others that worked at those places too.

And I was lucky. Our rules were like they are today only everyone saw them as gray . . . Guidelines to live by rather than break one and off you go . . .

Were they wrong? I don’t think so.


Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004

Soon to come, Sleepless Nights


My Poetry at poemhunter.com


My Other Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
The Moon Also Rises
This Side Of Midnight
Dan’s Room 2 Write

Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.

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