Someone on my alien guild's website posted the following question:
If you could live in a different time period of the past, what would it be?
Rather than explaining that the proper phrasing should be, "when would it be?" I responded with the following:
I like the present just fine. I wouldn't want to live in the past where a nick on the face while shaving could wind up becoming infected, thus causing your own death.
Seriously, this was not uncommon before the inventing of antibiotics just last century!
There is little nostalgia in the past. People don't seem to think about how tough times were back then compared to now. It was not a simpler time.
If anything, I'd want to go to the future. Who doesn't want to see if mankind can solve the Riemann Hypothesis before we destroy ourselves?
I left my response at that, but I could have gone on and on. I have never been able to figure out this desire people have for going back in time. They act like the old west, was Little House on the Prairie. People ought to be thankful that wasn't filmed in authentic smell-o-vision because a one room log cabin with a dirt floor occupied by 5 or 6 people who do not bathe every day is just not going to smell like a bouquet of flowers, no matter how loving and caring they pretend to be.
Modern people would enjoy that nonsense for about one day. After they realize they have to go to bed once it's dark out because there's no electricity and you can't always afford candles and oil for lamps, much less stay up late to watch whatever flick is on the idiot box, they'd be longing for their creature comforts. I'm not even going to discuss outhouses and the historic uses for the Sears, Roebuck catalog.
What exactly is the allure of "the old days"? Pick any time in history prior to 1950 (chosen rather arbitrarily since most people romanticize time periods well before their own lifetimes) and try to convince me that those days were better?
Sorry, the power of prayer didn't do anything back then to help a person's health any more than it does now. I'll stick with modern medicine and all it's flaws thank you very much.
My sister claims that buying Cottonelle toilet paper is a form of pampering oneself and the fact that I buy the rather efficient Scott brand with a 1000 sheets per roll is a sign that I don't know how to pamper myself. I disagree. I pamper myself just fine. I mean look at me, I'm over indulgence personified. It's just when I decide I'm going to pamper myself, I don't start with my asshole. Out of sight, out of mind I suppose. I'd like to see her make that same argument in the days before the Sears, Roebuck catalog. (Oops! I guess I did get into it.)
I got great idea! Why don't we strap our fat asses to a horse and take a quick ride to the next town over and back. It shouldn't take much more than the whole day! Sounds romantic to me.