The good old days are dead and gone; as a matter of fact, they never existed. The days I’ve already lived were just days where I found good and bad and not subject to comparison with some mythical earlier times that were somehow exceptional in such ways that I longed for them. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done things and been places that have blown my mind, but they are not from some idealized time in my life where things were occurring in some such way that would imply a miserable present.
Why is this my topic today? I’m once again in a coffee shop trying to get my writing mojo on because I think that when I step out of my routine at home I’m able to turn on some magical skills that come to me when I’m elsewhere. Well, here I am at the place that is still my favorite nearby java bar, and I’m on the verge of panic, not inspiration. If you are reading this near the day I’m publishing this blog entry, you’ll know we are still in the pandemic days, and at this moment, with me at “my” spot at the counter, there are 11 people in this place without masks forcing me to ask myself, “Why am I here?”
I’m here because somewhere in the back of my mind is the thought that I can visit the good old days. Is this a recurrent theme on my blog? I can’t know without checking previous entries, but I don’t want to be bothered either about how much I repeat myself here. Anyway, I’m not one to want to self-critique during this writing exercise when I should be allowing words to flow. Here, though, is my problem at this moment: flow is difficult in a panic, and when combined with distractions from those who’d like to talk for a minute due to my lengthy absence, I end up elsewhere instead of here on the page.
If this was a routine like it was back in those days, my title references, I would ultimately eke out enough words that I could justify hanging out for hours, but after three hours here today, I’m just now at 370’ish words while remaining in constant vigilance about my distance to others and skeptical of those who are without masks. These are certainly not the good old days, but they are different days, which, in my book, are great days.