Mom used to give us a piece of her mind on a daily basis. Four boys, 365 days in a year, 15 years each. Do the math. That's a lot of pieces. By the time we were too old for mind piecing, it was a miracle she had any brain left.
I think the over arching theme of her mind pieces was "the good old days". She would rant about "in the good old days there was no TV, no Three Stooges, no sneakers, no telephones, no fancy cars, blah, blah, blah."
To be honest, it sounded like the only thing there was "no" of in the "good old days" was "good". They were just "old days"; not too different from the middle ages really.
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