CW67
January 9, 1997
I fantasize about time travel, always have. My latest fixation is sitting at the counter of an early-80s Dunkin’ Donuts in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, early morning, old guys in flannel smoking cigarettes, winter.
I know that as terrifying as now is, the past, too, would be a rude shock. That so much of the pushback of this moment is because of how much some things have improved. And one facet of nostalgia that’s hidden in plain sight is that you’re thinking about a world where somehow you know the outcome. Whereas if you were really back there, it’d become the unpredictable present pretty quick.
That said, I miss certain things.
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