Who knew we had the last of the good old days. When I was a kid, this time of the year fried quail, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans and some kind of pie for dessert was nothing out of the ordinary - but still special - Sunday dinner. My uncle had a '59 Dodge with those huge fins that he put vents into the trunk for the bird dogs. We would go with him and his cousin and walk for what seemed like forever. But somehow we always made it home for dinner. Those days now seem so far away and gone forever, almost like they never happened. But they did.