I made a conscious decision as a teenager that I would not grow up to be The Old Man. You know, the coot who spews on about how life was much better when he was a lad. Cats' pajamas, poodle skirts, salt water taffy, muskets, Buddy Ebsen, and all that junk.
A Boy of Color
So, I'm not doing it here. I'm being delightfully informational in a happ'nin' gnarly bebop sort of Fizzies Party.
Hell is watching "color presentation" logos, like the NBC Peacock below, in front of every television show on a black-and-white set for years and years until Mom sees a need to upgrade to the new technology.
"Michael, color TV? Reds and blues and yellows? You don't need reds and blues and yellows. Have you done your homework? Take out the garbage. Have you done your homework? Eat this orange. It's orange...."
I was monochrome 'til age 16, when we got color and I had begun to gray.
I am scarred.
I'm mooning the peacock and these kids today....
Thanks to Yowp