The Bloody Doors Off

It was a story construct in Doctor Who, the idea that a ‘quantum-locked’ statue of a Weeping Angel could, if you blinked while looking at it, send you back in time to live out your years.

I mention this because, there are days I feel like I was born too late in this world and would really love to get sent back to a simpler age. Specifically, the 1940s. Aside from being a huge nerd/fan of film noir, and yes I’d be avoiding as much as possible getting drafted into the second world war, it seems to me (and correct me if I’m wrong) but it was an easier time to live in. After the Great Depression came a resurgence of jobs, people could own homes, raised families, were valued for who they were, not what they purchased.

Second choice: the late 1960s. The summer of love, freedom. The choice to turn on, tune in, and drop out. Again, it just seems like there was more possibility.

I wouldn’t live in the 1980s. I did that already, though I couldn’t appreciate (or hate) how capitalistic and greedy the world had started turning.

Nor would I go back to the previous century. While it’d be interesting to see how the industrial revolution really changed lives virtually overnight, I couldn’t stand the idea of prim and proper (and the lack of proper plumbing or air conditioning).

Bottom line: these days are hard and frustrating, and I’m desperate to escape.