“The atomic age of Americana brought us dizzying highs and creamy middles- but one thing to survive the blast, a unifying nostalgia for the tastier, simpler, kitschier things. The dewy sweet aroma of freshly squeezed orange juice, the radiant crackling of bacon in a pan, and the sudden spring of the old reliable toaster put us somewhere- somewhere specific. Somewhere where you’re sitting cross-legged on a patch of scratchy shag carpet, clasping the cool ceramic of your cereal bowl, while cartoons clank and bonk across the room. Cares seemed simple, and concerns seemed few. The sights, the smells, the sounds, and the feel of effortless comfort, a pure joy, can…
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