Living on Borrowed Time (Country Blues)

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My Mom and Dad are no longer with me today, but are never far from my mind.  Still remembering what they tried to teach me  in their loving, caring ways.  They spoke to me many times about the hardships of the depression era.   I understood that wages were so low, they were ridiculous.  The gasoline prices were only a  few cents a gallon, (by the way, you were comfortably seated in your automobile, at a full service station, while being waited on), groceries were cheaper, there were no T.V.s, computers or games to entertain you, only the gentle breeze on the porch for comfort, and the comradeship of a trusted and valued friend.

Recently, while pumping gas at a service station, looking at the soaring cost per gallon, and having to pump the gas myself at a self service station, I began to wonder whether or not if times had gotten better, worse, or is only about the same, just different circumstances.  I thought I would like to tell my Mom and Dad that living in today’s time is still not worth a dime.  I then wrote Living on Borrowed Time.