Lileks is showing old photos of Southdale, which Wikipedia gracelessly refers to as "the nation's oldest climate controlled mall."

Scroll halfway down the page for a glimpse into another era.

I know the past isn't necessarily better than the present, but sometimes, I think I'd much rather be able to travel in time than in space. Not because of intellectual curiosity, but sometimes it just makes me so whistful to think of a world where 15-year-olds weren't piercing their noses and eyebrows (and other unmentionable parts), where the people you invited to your living room via your (B&W) TV would be well-mannered and well-behaved, and where adults were inherently cooler than teenagers.

The racism sucked royally, of course. But let me have my half-real fantasy.

Milwaukee, where I grew up, had a pair of shopping malls like Southdale -- Southridge and Northridge. We lived near Southridge, and I imagined it was probably one of the most amazing things in the world. (You're pretty easily impressed when you're four or so.)

My father was a teacher, and it seemed that almost every Friday someone would be having a party -- having everyone else over. When I asked her about it, Mom said they all used to go to nightclubs too, and see shows. Imagine that: socializing weekly with the people you worked with.

Another era indeed.

There are too many memories to speak of -- fields which are now strip malls, A&W "Mama Burgers" and real root beer. Perhaps someday I'll write them down -- here or elsewhere -- for posterity. Bore you all silly.

There's a song by Chicago, which I'm reminded of:

Old days
Good times I remember
Fun days
Filled with simple pleasures
Drive-in movies
Comic books and blue jeans
Howdy Doody
Baseball cards and birthdays
Take me back
To a world gone away
Memories
Seem like yesterday...

With the references to "summer nights and street cars", that's quite a few years before my time -- but not very far removed. Much less than now certainly.

Lileks comments:

The descriptions, the photos, the ads, the tone of the special supplement – it wasn’t just the optimism, it was the quality of the optimism, the weight of it. So many things were new; so much was happening; so much was possible. Sometimes I think that the 50s was the most revolutionary decade in the century; the sixties were just clean-up.

Or perhaps even, in some ways, a step backwards.