I had my old truck on display on the weekend, and I never tire of the conversations it inspires. I have people stop and tell me about the hay bales or the milk cans they hauled on the farm or the time they drove a truck like mine through the snow to the hospital to deliver a baby. They share stories about taking trips or hauling livestock or just goofing around in one after school.

The stories usually contain phrases like 鈥渢hose were hard times,鈥� or 鈥渢hose were simpler times.鈥� Sometimes I hear 鈥渢hose were tough days鈥� or most of all, 鈥渢hose were the good old days.鈥�

One gentleman and his wife stopped by and he reminded her of his truck, a little older than mine, that they dated in.

He laughed, 鈥淚t had a big gear shift on the floor boards and it seemed I would just get her pulled over and get my arm around her and I had to shift down. I got pretty good at steering with my knees and shifting with the other hand so she wouldn鈥檛 get away.鈥�

They shared stories about parking in the field at night and sitting in the back to watch the northern lights or driving down dusty prairie grid roads to picnics or baseball games.

His wife shared that she liked the times before he could drive the truck.

鈥淲e had our bikes and we rode everywhere. We could ride to other farms or into town or we could go bump through the fields and out into the orchards. We didn鈥檛 need money for gas, those were the simple times.鈥�

It seems good times or bad times are a matter of perspective. One person might talk about the hardships without electricity, while another will recall the magic, quiet moments of reading a good book by candle light.

Singer Carly Simon in her song, 鈥楢nticipation鈥� tells us that, 鈥渢omorrow we might not be together, so stay right here, 鈥檆ause these are the good old days.鈥�

I have no idea what lies ahead, so I鈥檓 doing my best to make every day one of 鈥榯he good old days.鈥� At least that鈥檚 what McGregor says.

Simpler Times

The quiet path among the trees

From your place down to mine;

A spot, so discreet where we often would meet

In that innocent, simpler time.

A stolen moment for a stolen kiss

Aroused a feeling so divine;

The flowers there stole perfume from your hair,

While I composed a soft simple rhyme.

Oh, to be so young once again,

Untangled from the overgrown vine,

To hear your soft laugh, as we ride down the path,

Back to a quiet and simpler time.