As we enjoy this holiday season, I would like a gift from you. And that gift is: Stop complaining to me about how much better everything was in the olden days. You don’t even have to wrap this gift. Just zip it.

No, they weren’t. Well, OK, there was less traffic. And no one had to watch Jerry Springer. But other than that, things are better now, people. So gift everyone this year by being grateful.

Let’s just think for a moment about these alleged “good old days.”

Yes, some kids played in the creek instead of on their electronics. I hear that one a lot. We didn’t have a creek near our house, so I played in the medical waste from the office building next door. Seriously. I did. All the needles and bloody wrappings were fascinating to me. I went through that trash meticulously on a regular basis.

It goes without saying that my mother never knew about this, because she would have whipped me with a switch before having several strokes simultaneously. Because – in those days – parents told their kids “go out and play” and didn’t expect to see them again until dinnertime. And they whipped them with switches.

Yeah, I’m sure some kids I never met were jumping from tire swings into the river and romping in the forest. Personally, I was playing with used hypodermic needles, when I wasn’t wandering bored down the one main street in our town and wondering if it really was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.

Here are some fabulous highlights that I remember from the good old days…

…when our television had three black-and-white stations because we couldn’t afford color – and went off the air at midnight.

…when the air here was so dirty that people tried not to breathe unless absolutely necessary.

…when – sadly – there was no such thing as Baja fish tacos. And Taco Tuesday did not exist.

…when we took road trips every summer with no air conditioning in our Ford Falcon station wagon, and my parents smoking in the front seat like a pair of oil refineries.

…when I had to call the movie call line and listen for 18 minutes to find out what time my movie was playing but then I forgot so I had to listen all over again.

…when someone threw the paper away, so I had no way of reading that story about my neighbors’ house fire.

…when it cost a fortune to call long distance, so I hardly ever got to talk to my boyfriend who had moved back East.

…when my boyfriend did save up enough money to call me, but our only phone was in the living room, so I had to stretch the cord to talk to him in the closet with the door closed and then my mom yelled at me for stretching out the cord.

…when we needed to fix the washing machine, but YouTube had not been invented yet.

…when I had to use cassette tapes to play my music in the car, and they would always jam exactly when my favorite song came on.

…when my parents would have a fight (every other day) and my dad would get mad and stomp out and slam the door, and I had no way of knowing when or if he was ever coming back.

…when I never told a soul about employers groping me, or men trying to rape me because I was embarrassed and I didn’t think anyone would care.

…when I had to actually fight rush hour traffic to go into the office to work, instead of what I’m doing now, which is working at home in my fuzzy pajamas with pink flamingos on them.

…when I had to drive across town to deposit a check, instead of just taking a picture of it and depositing it into my bank online.

…when I wanted to make peach cobbler but I had to wait until summer because no one was flying peaches in from Brazil.

…when there was nowhere to get Indian food. Yes, I know, this is getting food-heavy. Get used to it.

…when I had to use carbon paper and get out the Wite-Out to correct a typo on a letter, which was constantly, because I’m a bad typist.

…when I had to stay home on Monday night even if the Rapture was coming or I would miss an episode of “M*A*S*H.”

…when I had to aim my camera and then wait until the film was developed to find out if I got a good shot. This was most memorable at my brother’s third wedding. My father had skipped his first two weddings because he didn’t want to see my mother, from whom he was divorced. This was stupid because she had no bad feelings about him. After I shamed him, he did manage to show up for the third wedding, and I deliberately tortured him by forcing him to stand next to my mother for picture after picture. He deserved it. I figured these would be the last photos I ever had of them together. And they would have been – except I forgot to put film in the camera. Oops. That wouldn’t happen today.

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…when I had to use the Encyclopedia Brittanica in our living room to look something up because I didn’t have a device in my pocket with the entire history of the world on it.

So, yes, I think life is better today. Well, except for traffic on the 405. That stinks. Let me know if you agree.

Want to meet me? I’ll be at Don Derr Park, 3003 Monroe St. in Riverside from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. on Friday, Dec.16 so come by and say hi, get your Frumpy Mom book signed or buy a copy. Bad weather cancels.

You can email me at [email protected]