Market Fads & Fashions

I yearn for a simpler time. Life in this modern age can be
frustrating and scary, what with the global warming and the bad
cholesterol and the high-definition reruns of ‘The
Nanny‘. I long for a more peaceful existence, free from the
complications of the twenty-first century lifestyle. I’m ready
to re-adopt a few of our long-forgotten traditions, to recapture
the halcyon days of yore. Yesteryore, even. I’m not screwing
around here.

First, I’d like to go back to using surnames to describe
peoples’ professions. So, if I meet a Shoemaker, I’ll know he
can help me patch the holes in my sneakers. If I run into a
Baker, I can ask for a ‘doughnut hole’, without worrying how
exactly he’ll interpret the request. And if a Parker happens to
be around — well, maybe he can finally get my car into my
garage spot. Plus, he might be turn out to be Spider-Man. That
would be sweet.

While we’re at it, how about if we go back to riding horses to
get around? Gas prices are high, pollution is terrible, and I
for one am fed up with that creepy, big-eared ‘zoom zoom’ brat.
Much better that we should saunter around the natural way, atop
large domesticated hairy animals. We can ride twelve wide down
the highway, trotting and cantering our way to the office. Sure,
we’ll all need stables — and salt licks, and hay bales, and the
level of poop in the streets would escalate, just a touch,
unless you live in Paramus — but it’s a small price to pay to
be rid of our mobile metal monsters. And just think of all the
glue and Big Macs we’ll be able to make with the ‘leftovers’.

It doesn’t end there, though. I think we should settle all of
our differences the old-fashioned way, too, with a nice pistol
duel. If it was good enough for the founding fathers, then why
not us? Put away the fancy Glocks and rifles — those things
won’t help you much, anyway, once we convert back to horseback
travel. Have you ever heard of a ‘gallop-by shooting’? Me,
neither. We’ll nip an awful lot of violence in the bud, if the
would-be perps were forced to use ancient flint-lock pieces to
do their dirty deeds. Those things are more likely to blow off
your fingers than to take out your enemy. I’d think twice before
stepping off ten paces against the guy who dissed my baby’s
mama, that’s for sure.

I suppose the Internet is out, too — if there’s anything that
screams ‘modern technology’, it’s the internet. So we’ll have to
get our porn somewhere else, obviously. But also our
communications — email goes out the window, too. Maybe we can
Pony Express parchments to each other, or learn to send
‘leetspeak’ instant messages via smoke signal. Of course, if the
spammers get their grubby paws on that technology, they’ll fill
the skies with soot, selling their snake oil and combination
butter churns/penis enlargers. And you thought pop-up ads were
bad; at least nobody ever got black lung from one of those.

Finally, let’s start talking like the old-timers — sorry, I
mean, ‘olde-timers’. All the fancy new lingo and technical
jargon around today — let’s throw it all away, and replace it
with words like ‘forsooth’ and ”verily’. Sure, nobody knows
what the hell those things mean any more, but is that really any
different than technoweenie talk like ‘phishing’ or ‘emoticon’?
If we’re going to be unintelligible, at least we can sound
Shakespearean. That’s my attitude.

Would any of these measures make our lives easier? Perhaps.
Maybe we should ask the Amish, before we go to all the trouble.
They certainly seem happy, raising barns and riding in buggies
and not smoking or drinking or dancing or… wow. If we’re
really serious about going ‘retro’, I suppose we have to fall in
line with all of that uber-observant religious mumbo-jumbo, too.
I never thought about that. And there’s no way I’m getting up
before noon on Sundays, or giving up my three-margarita
breakfasts. So, never mind. Maybe the modern life isn’t quite so
bad, after all. Verily.