While I (silently) huff and puff and (loudly) clomp by, the open windows of bedrooms, living rooms, and kitchens reveal the mundane life that seems to be led by all: half-dressed (yet not scandalously clad) people, exhausted, with a computer open (likely perpetually) to Facebook and a television to watch from their perch on the couch; a person rinsing a dish; the light ring of a the a (nearly defunct) landline phone in the distance; the sound of muffled music. Will this life be what I, when I am older (should I grow to be older), look back on and miss as "the good old days?"
Will there come a time where I will wish for the quaintness of the days when every 10 year old lusted after a needlessly high-tech and expensive cell phone? Will I grow misty-eyed thinking of the days when our grandparents still had house phones and sent emails? Will I look back with a smile on the mass exodus first to MySpace and then to Facebook and all the junk that emerged via those routes? Will I laugh at my own silliness in recording thoughts on a blog- or, even more depressingly, paper?
I won't know today, nor tomorrow. But perhaps someday...
Yet I fear I shall be the first generation that lacks an age of innocence, no matter how ultimately untruthful that term is, to admire.
