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There is not one ounce of longing for the good old days in my head. Because when I think back to Pacer cars and white-belted leisure suits and Spiro Agnew and Steve Perry of the band Journey, I come to the conclusion that life has gotten better in so many ways. Even Dick Cheney seems better than Agnew.

So bring on new music and new cars and new politicians and dump as much new technology on my head as I can handle. (Make sure it’s not in attachment form on the e-mail, though. I still can’t figure that one out.)

Still, occasionally, I do fall into the “good old days” syndrome, usually when it comes to technology. Computers are wonderful, despite the hours I spend each day deleting e-mails about penis enlargement. I used to have the choice of six tv channels on which there was never anything I wanted to watch; now I have to click through 150 channels before I come to the same conclusion. I long for the days when blogs and video podcasts and ESPN didn’t render daily newspapers boring and irrelevant. (OK, maybe things haven’t changed on that one.)

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