Addicted to Old

 Stop living in the past!

I tell myself this a lot. What happens when we rehash the past?


Well, if one thinks for a moment while avoiding any obscene connotations from the title of this blog, one may hit upon bad memories, bungling mistakes and a checkered childhood laced with dysfunction.


There’s something strange here, though. My cell phone is bloated with old coin-op games of yore. Donkey Kong still beckons me. I have purchased digital versions of old books (okay, comic books) to view on the latest tablet. I still listen to music decades old, making endless playlists of these songs on so many different platforms (Rhapsody, Itunes, Amazon Music, etc.). I have missed out on so many movies these past few years, yet I still catch bits of the original Lucasfilm trilogy on the PS3 from time to time (someday to be ported over to PS4 and the like).


What is happening here?


Ella Winter told Thomas Wolfe he couldn’t go home again. I should follow suit, but the kid still lives and festers inside. And the best part is that I’m okay with that — because it makes me smile.


As I watch my children grow up, I hope to give them many good memories that make them yearn to relive their youth.


Press forward and make your new choices. Go kick some ass with the time you have left. If you’ve left the bad memories, bungling mistakes and checkered childhood behind, good for you! Forgive. Forget.


One thing though: in those moments where you still have a kid lurking inside (pregnancy doesn’t count), it’s okay to let him loose and play Space Invaders once in a while (geez, Space Invaders? Really? How old are you?).


Auld Lang Syne.

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