Olden Days

Great-grandpa tries to frighten me
By telling how things used to be.
He swears that all he says is true.
This was the world in which he grew:

Their homes had porches, where they sat,
And grownups always wore a hat.
They seldom locked their homes or cars
And kept their cash in cookie jars.

They walked more then and ate much less
And women always wore a dress.
Instead of sneakers, they wore shoes.
And men wore vests, but no tattoos.

An ice cream cone cost just a dime,
And kids played outdoors all the time.
A boyfriend then was called a beau,
And schools stayed open during snow.

No riding mowers over yards
Or buying things with credit cards.
No ATM's for getting cash,
And no one then recycled trash.

No solar cells or Post-it notes,
And TV sets had no remotes.
They never heard of mobile phones
Or internet or clones or drones.

No Walmarts or McDonalds then.
No mountain bikes or felt-tip pen.
No X Games or Atlanta Braves
Or frozen foods or microwaves.

Some man named Elvis was their king.
They had no air conditioning.
There was no Super Bowl at all
Or three-point shot in basketball.

No spaceship flights or twist-off cap.
No Legos, lasers, Wii, or rap.
No Velcro or designer jeans,
Or sandwiches called submarines.

No Disney World or DVD's.
No little league or lotteries.
No Simpsons, M&M's or Sprite.
No skateboards and no satellite.

He sounds sincere, but I'm no fool.
He even said he walked to school!
I don't see how these things could be.
I think he must be kidding me.