4. The Death of Handwriting
On New Year's Eve, my mother's friend invited the rest of us at the table to join her in mourning the passing of handwriting lessons in elementary school.
I could tell that she particularly expected me, with my background in literature and creative writing, to chime in with my own lamentation.
Instead, I wish a goodbye and a good riddance to the nasty business.
Full Disclosure: I have terrible handwriting. Truly terrible. The worst grade I received in my entire life by far was a D- in handwriting earned in 6th grade. At the time, my teacher warned me that my disgraceful handwriting would, if not immediately addressed, limit my opportunities in life. Writing in script, she assured me, would be crucial to my success in junior high and life beyond.
After the first week of 7th grade, I never wrote in cursive again. Other than my signature, which is really a bastardized script, I don't believe that I can write in cursive at all.
Printing or typing works just fine for me.
And if I feel a need to see my words in script? There's a font for that.
So I don't miss it at all.
Things I do miss from my childhood/adolescence:
Slumber parties
Screaming Yellow Zonkers
Mix tapes
Aimless car rides with friends
Long summers