This is today's post from my blog, The Sophia Project. One night recently I ate dinner with my lovely friend Julie and her parents who were visiting from out of town. We were sitting on the deck of Julie’s 1930’s house and reminiscing about the 1970’s, when her parents were young adults and Julie and I were little, squirmy kids. Steeped in nostalgia, we speculated on who had lived and died in Julie’s old house, and remembered our own simpler pasts, when life at least seemed less cluttered. Today I’m indulging in a bit of a flashback, remembering a past that never existed for me, channeling the 1970’s (and beyond) into my adult life and seeing what sticks. Here’s what I think the 70’s have to teach us about living a good life: 1) Your house shouldn’t sink you. The house I grew up in was small, about 1500 square feet. I lived there with my mom, dad, and older brother. We were often on top of each other, but it was OK, expected. My brother annoyed me with trombone practice and I often fell asleep to the sound of my dad watching sports on TV. How do you know you’re in a family if you can’t hear the others living around you? My parent’s mortgage payment was about $250 per month. We updated carpet and appliances once they broke or wore out. My parents still have the same couch, chairs, and footstools I played on when I was 10 years old. They’re recovered and stylish, but it’s the same frame underneath the new fabric. They didn’t buy new things simply because of styles or trends, but out of necessity. Imagine if we got off the McMansion, granite-counter top and stainless-steel appliance train and recognized that there are better ways to spend all that money. Like saving it. Or giving it to a charity. Or taking a trip to Disney World. 2) Credit cards are meant to be paid off each month. Somewhere along the line, credit became a long term loan for depreciable consumer goods, rather than a tool for purchasing necessities when on the road. I’ve certainly bought into this mindset myself, carrying balances for most of the past seven years. But my card is now paid off. And each month, I pay that sucker, no matter how much it hurts. I hold myself accountable for my debts, my spending, and my bad habits. It’s about time, and I promise you, it feels great. 3) It’s OK to get hurt. In the 70’s, kids rode enormous, heavy, steel framed bikes. With no helmets. Jungle gyms were giant metal structures built on pavement with rusty bolts sticking out everywhere. And we ate bologna. A lot. I have no doubt my mom and dad loved me, but they were willing to send me out into the world at the risk of injury. Because life isn’t going to leave you untouched. In our anti-bacterial, rubber-matted world, I worry kids aren’t getting bruised quite enough, colliding with the hard surface of life, getting up, and realizing that it’s possible to move on and survive the hurt. I’m not advocating lessened safety standards for the vulnerable. But doesn’t it seem we’ve gone a bit overboard? 4) Community doesn't truly exist on a computer. Now, I love technology. I do. I groove on figuring out website development, podcasting, and the like. So I’m not advocating a return to a pre-internet world. But come on, do we really need all this crap? I was in the grocery store yesterday and passed no fewer than six people talking on their phones while shopping, totally unaware of me or anything else going on around them. We teach ourselves to be fragmented and distracted with all this multi-tasking. And personally, I hate talking on the phone with people as they drive or do anything else. I can tell they’re not present for the conversation, and if they’re driving, I worry about other people on the road. It’s insanity. Let’s turn off the phone and start attending to those around us. Like our neighbors. Or the cute woman making eyes at you in the grocery story (umm, that would be me). Or the hot fella just dying to strike up a conversation with you. Life is happening all around us, all the time, and we miss it when we tune out. 5) Three hundred channels is overkill, and remote controls make us fat. I ditched my dish when I moved to NC in favor of a digital antennae. I don’t need 300 options. Frankly, I only watch about 5 of those channels anyway, so what’s the point? Do I really need to watch “The 40-Year Old Virgin” again on TBS? No. When I was a kid, and I wanted to watch another of the four channels that we received in my house, I’d get up, walk across the dark green shag carpet to the dial on the TV, and change the channel. Ten steps up, ten steps back. A tiny smidge of exercise in an otherwise sedentary activity. Thanks for sticking with me through this rant. I’m off to don my Shaun Cassidy tee-shirt to watch Happy Days while eating a bowl of Spagettios with Meatballs. And then I might ride my big old heavy bike to my friend's house to run through the sprinkler all afternoon. So there.