“Those, of course, being the same old days when a self-respecting woman wouldn’t go shopping without first cinching on a girdle and hooking up her stockings to a garter belt, the days when gay people went in fear of their lives and there was a penny candy called nigger babies available at every five-and-dime. Nothing like the old days, yessir!”
I think these kind of thoughts every time people talk about the good old days! Maybe not the exact same things as King has written herein, but similar things. As Billy Joel sang, “The good old days weren’t always good...”
This is a good, tight short story! Love the Grandpop! And writing like this: "... in the ribs with 33 ounces of solid Kentucky ash." That's why he's the King!