Bobby, Is Our Garage On Fire?

All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray...

(AI generated photo)

During a leisurely mental stroll six decades back to my boyhood, a three-word phrase recently popped into my head that made the 1960s seem positively medieval.

It sounds so alien now. I don’t think there is any modern equivalent. At least, I hope there isn’t.

I was thinking about the chores I had to do back then, and a surprising number of them involved gasoline and matches. These were not renegade acts of rebellion, they were just me following orders.