The paradox of progress

In general, I am not one to wish for things to be as they were. I had to wait 364 days to be able to watch “The Wizard of Oz” since it only came on once a year on a Sunday night at 6 p.m. CST. Once—and only once—I watched my mother wash out my little brother’s poopy cloth diaper in the commode. Not being able to write checks out of town meant carry...