I want to come home to this place. This time. I recognize no era was perfect but this kind of place was so much more than the sum of its parts. A home that was comforting in its existence, unlike the bland gray/brown/beige rectangles that comprise every business and apartment now. Thick carpet that hid untold amounts of pet hair and cigarette ash. Wallpaper that, while gaudy, was so durable it could remove the Sheetrock under it if you were careless. A TV that, while shit, was a family gathering after dinner.

But others may have a different experience and I wouldn’t fault them.