y late grandmother loved St. John knit suits, but she would never pay designer prices. A child of the Depression, she remembered when cars, rather than clothing, cost $600. She wasn’t “price adjusted” to the 1990s, my father used to say. So, he called ahead to the store saleswoman in advance of our annual shopping trip, and she kindly placed “final markdown” stickers on top of the actual price tags of clothes in my grandmother’s size so she could shop with her mind at ease.
The grounding effects of so many of the structures that anchor us are under assault. Holidays, heroes, religion, biology, childhood, currency, reality — all of it is being “reimagined” by a generation of people who have no historical memory, or a reflexive disdain for it. They themselves are unmoored and seek to make everyone else feel as disconnected as they do. It seems to be working.and teachers label math “racist.
Different as his circumstances were to ours, Zweig’s disorientation resonates. I often feel as my grandmother did — that the price of everything is too high: the price of gasoline, the price of free speech, the price of a single mistake.of his youth as “a world without haste.” That description made me nostalgic for a time I can recall when phones hung on walls and Atari was considered hi-tech. Change was always a constant, but until recently, it felt incremental and manageable.
No. It will never be as good as it was in 2019. Not in our lifetime. The great production that resulted from the globalism that had Americans protecting the trade routes for a growing China to feed the consumers of the huge baby boomer generation is ending. A billion will die.
No. It's gone. And the younger folks have no idea. But we have our treasured memories. We are where we are. Maybe we can tweak things a little bit to force things, nope. It's gone! Does anyone remember Green Stamps? Or drinking out of their garden hose? Or just riding bikes?
As long as Blue is in charge, Nope...