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By Jack Godbey

Contributing Columnist

I was scrolling on social media today and it seemed that every other post was talking about the good old days and how they wished things today were like they used to be. It got me to thinking and I decided to take a drive out to my old boyhood home in the Maywood section of Lincoln County to see if I could recapture some feelings of yesterday.

As I drove along the country road where we used to live, I suddenly was transported back in time and I found myself riding that old number 11 school bus again. As we passed by the houses, I would recount the name of my classmate who used to live there. My wife pretended to be interested, but God bless her, she had no clue who those kids were. Yet, she still smiled and listened to my stories of days gone by. When we finally reached the old house that I used to live in, I slowed my truck down to a crawl as I took it all in. I imagine the neighbors were either thinking I was about to do a drive-by shooting or was crazy. The latter would be more on point.

I realized that 40 years had passed since I used to play in that yard. So many things have changed since then. I decided to try to relive a little of those days and became lost in thought. While I tried my best to glorify those times, I remembered the time a “Friend” in my class, used to go around hitting everyone in the family jewels for fun. Nothing like a little agonizing pain to make your day go well. I also remembered that the teachers that time had idolized in my mind, used to spank me with huge wooden planks with holes drilled in them to get extra air time. I remembered kids shooting snot rockets at each other, and it was then that I realized maybe things were not as great as I remembered them to be.

I began to ponder on this on my drive home and realized that the good old days are not the only thing that are only good for a short time and once they are gone, can never be returned to their original glory. For example, have you ever tried re-heating pizza? It turns into a greasy plate of cardboard. What once was so delicious is no more. Time has changed it forever.  The same can be said for French fries. Especially the ones that come from the fast food place. Sure, it’s a crap shoot at what point in the fries life you’ll get them, but if you are lucky to get them at just the right moment, you’ll never eat anything more delicious in your life. However, once they get cold it’s over. There is nothing you can do to return them to their previous glory. Which is why I usually end up eating all the fries on the drive home. You have a small window when they are at their best, so I scarf them all down and then tell my wife that the restaurant must have forgotten to put them in the bag. Sorry McDonald’s but if it’s between telling a lie on you or getting beat up by my wife, I choose you every time.

So, I started to wonder, am I like the French fry? Has my time of greatness long passed me by and now I’m just a mushy potato? Well, it depends on who you ask I guess. However, I soon realized that I am not a French fry. I’m just like bologna. I’m good anytime and any way you can get me. Great, now I’ve made myself hungry. I gotta go.