by Andrew Koslosky KGCHS, Contributing Writer
I really did have a dream. Not something as historical or inspiring as the great Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Not as wholesome as Bing Crosby’s dreaming of a White Christmas. My dream came from a completely different place. I had a dream that I was living in the 1960s. That is correct…back to the days of my childhood, but there was one catch, this time I was an adult.
Let me try to make sense of this for you. I grew up in East New York, Brooklyn in the late 60’s and 70’s. If you could time-travel from the 1960s to the present day, the first thing you would probably do is scream. The second thing you would do is ask why everyone is staring at small glowing rectangles as if awaiting messages from outer space. That is cell phones for those of you who are already confused. The third thing you would do after recovering from the shock that men now, according to some members of congress, can have babies, is conclude that the world has lost its mind.
The 1960s and today exist on the same planet, technically speaking, but spiritually they might as well be separate galaxies. One era believed the future would involve flying cars and robot maids; the other uses advanced technology to watch if elderly people fall or babies cry on video.
In the 1960s, technology was sturdy, loud, and built to survive nuclear fallout. Televisions weighed as much as compact cars and displayed images in black and white, which conveniently hid the fact that everyone looked slightly ill. Phones were attached to walls, desks, or kitchens and featured a curly cord that doubled as a toy, a weapon, and a tripping hazard.
Making a phone call required patience, upper-body strength, and a basic understanding of geometry. You dialed each number carefully, and if you messed up on digit six, you started over. This taught resilience. Computers existed, but they filled entire rooms, had less processing power than today’s digital toaster, and were mostly used to calculate things like missile trajectories or how many paper clips the government owned.
Today, technology fits in your pocket and knows more about you than your mother, your priest, and your childhood best friend combined. Phones have no cords, no buttons, and no mercy. They autocorrect your heartfelt messages into personal insults and then suggest emojis to soften the blow.
Modern devices do everything except what you bought them for. Your phone can navigate satellites, recognize your face, and monitor your heart rate, but its battery will still die at 12% just to spite you.
In the 1960s, people worried machines would take over the world.
Today, they worry that their smart fridge is judging their late-night snack choices. Communication in the 1960s involved actual voices, physical proximity, and emotional risk.
If you wanted to talk to someone, you called them or worse, visited them…sometimes unannounced. Letters were handwritten, mailed, and delivered days later. This gave people time to think, reflect, and regret what they had written. Arguments lasted weeks. Breakups were formal. Penmanship mattered. If you didn’t answer the phone, no one assumed you were dead or ignoring them. You were simply “not home,” a perfectly acceptable state of existence.
Today, communication is instant, constant, and mildly terrifying. If you don’t respond to a message within five minutes, people assume, you are angry, you are ghosting them, you have been kidnapped or All of the above.
Just for reference here, “You are ghosting them,” means you’ve suddenly cut off all communication with someone without explanation, a common but hurtful tactic often stemming from fear of confrontation, discomfort with ending things, or feeling overwhelmed, reflecting more on the ghoster’s issues with communication than the person being ghosted. It leaves the other person feeling rejected, anxious, and confused, as their brain processes it similarly to physical pain, and it’s often an avoidance strategy to skip awkward conversations. There now…I am sure that cleared that up…
In today’s world, text messages lack tone, facial expressions, and common sense. A simple “K” can end friendships. Typing indicators on a cell phone that a message is coming can create suspense rivaling Hitchcock films. Social media allows you to broadcast your thoughts to hundreds of people simultaneously, most of whom did not ask.
In the 1960s, your opinions were limited to your family, coworkers, and your bartender. In the 1960s, people dressed as if they might be photographed at any moment. Men wore suits to baseball games. Women wore dresses to the grocery store. Children were dressed like miniature adults, complete with tiny shoes designed solely to cause blisters. Hats were mandatory. Casual clothing was still formal by today’s standards. Even rebellion had a dress code.
When a woman went topless, it meant she took her hat off. Today, fashion is a philosophical debate. Pajamas are acceptable in public. Athleisure is both an outfit and a lifestyle.
Jeans now are purchased new and pre-ripped. People dress for comfort, self-expression, or shock value. Sometimes all three. Shoes cost more than rent. Logos are visible from space. In the 1960s, you could identify someone’s job by their clothing. Today, a billionaire and a college freshman may be wearing the same hoodie.
Entertainment in the 1960s was a shared experience. Families gathered around one television to watch whatever was on, because there were only three channels and the remote control was your youngest child. If you missed a show, you missed it forever. This built character and disappointment tolerance.
Music was listened to intentionally. Albums were played start to finish. Teenagers saved money to buy records, then sat quietly absorbing every note, lyric, and album cover detail. Today, entertainment is infinite. Streaming services offer thousands of options, and you still can’t find anything to watch. People scroll for forty minutes and then rewatch the same show they’ve seen twelve times. Attention spans are theoretical.
In the 1960s, boredom led to creativity. Today, boredom lasts approximately six seconds before someone reaches for their phone. News in the 1960s was delivered calmly by trusted figures in suits. You watched it once a day and then went on with your life. Headlines were serious, limited, and factual. Opinions were saved for editorials or Thanksgiving dinner.
Today, news is a 24-hour emotional roller coaster fueled by outrage, speculation, and clickbait. Everyone is an expert. Everyone is angry. Something called Algorithms decides what you see, ensuring you are always either furious or afraid. The phrase “breaking news” now applies to events that occurred three minutes ago and may or may not be true.
In the 1960s, people disagreed privately. Today, they do it publicly, repeatedly, and in all caps. Children in the 1960s were released into the neighborhood with vague instructions to return by dinner. Parents had no idea where their kids were, and this was considered normal. Safety rules were minimal. Helmets were optional. Supervision was theoretical.
Today’s children are tracked via apps, monitored via cameras, and supervised to a degree that would alarm previous generations. Parents schedule playdates, manage screen time, and worry about everything. The phrase “helicopter parenting” exists for a reason. In the 1960s, kids learned independence. Today, they learn passwords.
People in the 1960s often worked one job for decades. Loyalty was rewarded with pensions, gold watches, and the knowledge of who you were. Work ended when you left the office. Evenings belonged to families. Today, work follows you home, into your phone, and into your dreams. Job titles are confusing. Careers are fluid. Burnout is common. Emails arrive at all hours. “Work-life balance” is discussed constantly and achieved rarely.
Back in the old days, dating involved courage, conversation, and actual eye contact. You asked someone out and faced rejection in real time. Marriage was expected. Divorce was scandalous. Love letters were treasured. Today, dating apps allow you to judge human beings in seconds based on photos and vague bios. Commitment is optional. Ghosting is common.
Romance is complicated by notifications, expectations, and the fear that someone better is one swipe away.
When I woke up around 3am from this horror, I tried to make some sense of it and recognized a few things. The 1960s were not perfect. Today is not hopeless. Every era has its flaws, its triumphs, and its ridiculous habits. We have more convenience, more connection, and more knowledge than ever before. We also have more distractions, more noise, and more opinions.
Perhaps the goal is not to choose between then and now, but to laugh at both and remember that no matter what the decade, humans remain wonderfully, hilariously human. The other thing I learned was I should have named this piece… I Had a Nightmare instead of I Had a Dream.
Peace my Brothers and Sisters until next week…
