You know, over the past few years, we've been inundated with politics, deficits, crime, foreclosures and natural disasters.

With due respect to the marvels of the internet, I'm here to say that I just don't think that we humans were created to deal with that much negativity coming at us, all at once - at micro-second speeds, in fact.

Do you ever just want to yell, "STOP!!" and then, slowly back away and keep backing, until you reach that time in your life when you could keep it all in focus? Me, too.

There was a time, not too long ago, when kids created with crayons and spent most of the day out in the backyard.

Moms would be busy using a light bulb to darn socks - hoping to get another few months wear out of them. Little girls might even help bake cookies and they played with their dolls, until they weren't little girls, anymore, and Dads were around to teach their boys how to change the oil in the car and throw a curve ball.

If there ever was the sound of a gunshot, it was either a car backfiring or someone spotted a coyote in the chicken coop.

And all the neighborhood kids would lick off of the same sucker and no one got sick. Sometimes the sucker would even get dropped and then that five-second rule would kick in.

Again, no one ever seemed to get sick from picking off a few dog hairs and licking off the dirt. In my memories, those suckers tasted the best, because we didn't have the money to just go and buy another one.

Being raised in Montana, I imagine we were a bit behind the times, but I can now see where it was a blessing.

In the '50s, Montana was still teetering between what you'd see on "Leave It to Beaver" and "The Waltons."

I'd get to spend quite a few weekends out on my uncles' ranches or farms, depending on who had enough time to make up for me helping.

I remember experiencing a sense of peace and safety that is no longer understood, in these times. The city, where I grew up, wasn't nearly as big as Seattle --not even close.

Back then, our city block was pretty much our whole world and we stayed within its boundaries and made friends with our neighbors.

We made up, when we got mad, because there just wasn't anyone else to play with. We learned to forgive and forget. And folks were careful about gossip, because it'd always get back to the person of topic.

It was a time when people would smile and say hello, when they passed on the street -- no one's ears were plugged up with distractions.

It was a time of face-to-face communication, accountability, knowing and being known by others and feeling that you were a part of something.

It was a sweet time where kids would curl up in Grandpa's or Grandma's lap and beg to hear about the olden days, when they were young. And nothin' hurt more that a noogie on the noggin from Grandma, when she'd get my head squeezed in a scissor lock!

Many of those types of incredible people are still in our midst; we just may not know them by name. We see them hobbling in and out of the local stores, out walking their dogs or trimming their bushes.

But where do we find the time to talk to them? And when can we find the time to listen?

That's what this column is all about - me taking the time to crawl around looking for the pearls that rolled under the sofa, were left in the corner of a drawer or got lost in a pile of dust.

The pearls, I refer to, are the wonderful anecdotes and wisdom of our remarkable senior citizens.

Lee Ryan, a Des Moines resident, is an actor, creative writer and voice talent. She can be reached care of hteditor@robinsonnews.com