One of the best things about my father was his laugh. Once he got going, he would laugh until tears rolled down his face and he could barely stand up. One thing that always got him going was watching Broderick Crawford, an Oscar winner who played the Chief on the 1950's era show - dudududta- Highway Patrol! My father was an actual California Highway Patrolman, a member of the CHP, the nickname that later was used for another show - Chips, (that Eric Estrada masterpiece of flaming car crashes which my sons loved as toddlers). My father would crack up over every procedural error, all the car chases, the guns fights (often counting the number of bullets Crawford could get from a 6 shooter - 7+ more often than not), Crawford's ridiculously worded pronouncement at the end of each episode, and especially the poorly concealed emblem on the real CHP car they used. Simpler times! Good Times!
But it wasn't all simpler. Who remembers having to use the eraser end of the pencil to wind all that runaway tape back onto the cassette? (And how much better the cassette was than the 8-track?) What magic the CD is! No fast forwarding back and forth, trying to find the start of that special song. And looking everywhere for a pay phone? And seeing the zippers running down the costumes worn by Aliens in the movies? Having only one choice of leisure athletic footwear - Converse? Everything you wore wrinkling? No garbage disposals or dishwashers?