The paradox of progress

In general, I am not one to wish for things to be as they were. I had to wait 364 days to be able to watch The Wizard of Oz since it only came on once a year on a Sunday night at 6 p.m. CST. Once— and only once—I watched my mother wash out my little brother’s poopy cloth diaper in the commode. Not being able to write checks out of town meant carrying more cash than I wanted to have on my ...