Another Era, Another Day

If only I lived in the days when men wore hats, women sundresses. Everyone traveled by train and couples danced away the evenings at supper clubs. In days when one would get their news from a paperboy hawking fresh print on street corners and radio was the main source of entertainment, a tickle for the imagination. Reading meant Bradbury, Fitzgerald and the Sunday funnies. Saturdays were made from Friday paychecks. Everything closed down on Sundays. And most importantly to kiss and hold hands really meant something special.