Reinventing the Good Old Days

The morning breeze carries the scent of salt and sea oats through my screened porch, mingling with the rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. A brown pelican glides past, wings spread wide, barely skimming the waves. The rhythmic sound of surf provides a gentle backbeat to the cheerful chaos of shore birds arguing over their breakfast finds. Just another Sunday morning on Florida’s East Coast, where nature’s theater plays out against a backdrop of cotton-candy clouds and cerulean skies.

The neighborhoodʼs starting to wake up. I can see the neighbor next door is already tending to her hibiscus, their bright red blooms a stark contrast to the sandy soil. Her grandson zips past on his bike, the playing cards in his spokes creating that familiar rat-a-tat-tat that takes me back to my own childhood in Indiana. I feel blessed that I had a great childhood, but it’s probably not as good for a lot of kids today.

A Trip to Chicago

When I was 11, my buddy and I hopped a three-hour train to Chicago from our small town in Indiana. Just two kids with some Christmas-shopping money and a crude map of the city. We walked miles from the train station into the Chicago Loop, wandered through Marshall Field and Company, and made it home with our Christmas presents intact. No phones. No hovering parents. Our parents weren’t worried sick — it was just another adventure in a time when kids could be kids.

These days, that story makes people gasp. “You did what?” they’ll ask, eyes wide with disbelief. And I get it. I was the same way with my own children — hovering at the end of the driveway until the school bus disappeared around the corner, living in constant fear of seeing their faces on milk cartons. We traded freedom for safety, adventure for security.

Strangers Among Us

So many of us have become so transient that we don’t know our neighbors. We moved to one place where the neighbors never introduced themselves for over a year. Yet when we moved to Texas, we had three casseroles and plates of cookies on the day we moved in. These gestures make such a difference.

But sitting here, watching local kids zip around the street on their bikes, I’m reminded that pockets of that old way of life still exist. In small towns across America, in tight-knit neighborhoods like this one, where people still bring casseroles to new neighbors and check on each other when they’re under the weather.

The pelican makes another pass, this time successfully snagging a fish from the waves. Nature’s reminder that some things don’t change — community, connection, the need to look out for one another. Whether it’s sharing fish with your flock or sharing cookies with your neighbors, we’re all in this together.

Staying Connected

A couple of weeks ago, during a brief cold snap (yes, we get those in Florida), a neighbor brought us soup. Not because we were sick, but because “it’s soup weather, and I made extra.” That’s the kind of community my father talked about during the Great Depression — people helping people, just because that’s what good people do. If you needed something, you knew you could rely on your neighbors. Though these days asking to borrow an egg is like asking for a gold bar, it’s important to find excuses to stay connected.

Is Social Media Social?

It’s easy to get discouraged by the endless stream of negativity on our screens. Social media shows us the worst of humanity on repeat, making us forget about the best parts. But here’s the thing — we can choose to live differently. We can choose to be the neighbor who brings the soup, who watches the kids ride their bikes, who creates the community we crave. It starts by putting yourself out there, getting to know your neighbors and local shop owners. 

Deep Investment

What if we were all more generous, thinking less about ourselves and thinking more about others? Not because we want something, but because we just want to be neighborly. What if we got out more, interacted more, and were the first to make an effort to get to know the neighbors? What if we spent less time doom scrolling and more time invested with our community?

Feeling Grateful

This morning, as I sip my coffee and watch the sun climb higher over the water, I’m grateful for this little pocket of the world where children still play freely and neighbors still hold block parties. It’s not perfect — nothing is — but it’s real. It’s a community, and it renews my faith in humanity.

While chatting across the fence, our neighbor invited us to a birthday party for her husband next week, and on the other side, I wandered through the gate into my neighbor’s garage to see his progress on his 1960s muscle car — which he has taken apart — and he’s beaming with the joy of his project. Sometimes it feels good just to stand around and shoot the breeze. It helps us feel connected.

Carly Simon Was Right

And just like that, I’m reminded that the good old days aren’t gone — they’re happening right now, if we choose to create them. These are the good old days. All it takes is opening our doors, sharing what we have, and remembering that we’re all in this together, one cup of coffee, or soup, one neighbor at a time.

As the local kids ride by, playing cards in their spokes are louder now, a chorus of childhood joy. The pelican soars overhead, heading home to its own community. And me? I’m right where I need to be, in this moment, in this place, building the kind of world I want to live in — one neighbor at a time.

Eric Rhoads