For me there were no golden eras, just dubious memories darkened by conveniently forgotten reality. In those days I was worse informed, worse fed, usually colder, more parochial, more obviously a victim of "things".
• Light bulbs popped quicker.
• Time wasted buying basics.
• Intermittent hot water.
• No sliced bread (nor the twenty varieties Tesco offers routinely).
• No distant places.
• No fridges or freezers (just a delusional "pantry" theory),
• Thicker, more inaccessible tins.
• Cars that needed perpetual cossetting.
• A cash only society.
• Compulsory military service.
• Unassailable authority.
• Shorter lives.
If you've lasted this long, as I have, look around, do an honest balance sheet and conclude one would wouldn't have the fifties back at any price.
You're either touched by this or you've bogged down on Optick:
I gave to Hope, a Watch of mine but he
An Anchor gave to me.
Then a old Prayer-book I did present:
And he an Optick sent.
With that I gave a Phial full of tears:
But he a few green ears.
Ah, loiterer! I'll no more, no more I'll bring:
I did expect a Ring.
Reason why. The last line, what else?
George Herbert (1593 - 1633)