Another year has come and once again I am trying to remember how things were long ago.

Before apps, when there were attention spans, before six-star hotels, when we always had Paris, before hedge-fund honchos, when love was all you needed, I think we got by just the same.

Before synching, when pen met paper, before screaming screens in taxis, when there were lulls, before virtual community, before cut-and-paste, to the tap of my Olivetti, in the disorder of carbon-stained fingers and the thrill of the class struggle, before information overload, when there was mystery, before carbon footprints, in the heretofore, before CCTV, in invisibility, before hot yoga, in the galaxy of strangeness, my impression, unless I’m wrong, is that we made the most of our lot.

Before January cherries, when fruit had seasons, before global avocado, when you were told to eat up, before New World wine, when wine was tannic and acidic, before plate-size cookies, when greed was contained, before fusion, in scattered division, before the obesity onslaught, in our ordinariness, before efficiency took over, before remorseless software, in our afternoon dazes, could we . could we . have gotten by all the same?

Memory is fading and I may be wrong . but before celebrities, when there were starlets, before Google Maps, when our compasses were internal, before virtual flirtation, when legs touched under tables, we felt we managed pretty well. Was it all an illusion? Before identity theft, when nobody could steal you, before global positioning systems, when we were lost, before 24/7 alerts by text and e-mail, when there was idleness, before e-readers, when pages frayed, we did seem to survive.

Before Uber, when a cab was a cab, before FaceTime and tweets, when there was time, before speed cameras, when you could speed, we managed all right.

Before homogenization, when there was tobacco smoke, before cuisine with foam, when gravy was lumpy, before aggregation, when there was copyright, before digital, when there was vinyl, before Made in China, when there was Mao, before search engine optimization, when above the fold was what mattered, before sanitization, when there was grime, we had the impression we were getting by.

Before social media, when we were social, before trending on Google, when we zoned out, before adjustable appointments, when you stuck to the plan, before “content,” when we spun yarns, before nonstate actors, when states were the threat, I believe we did get by all the same.

Before organic, when an apple was an apple, before online banking, when you knew your branch manager, before global warming, when we feared nuclear winters, before “save the planet,” when the earth seemed boundless, before the Greens, when we faced the Reds, it seemed we did somehow manage to eke out a life.

Or did we? Before iPhones and “Search,” in the era of print, before portable devices, when there was ink, before the weather channel, when random weather got weathered, before movies-on-demand, when movies were demanding, before global brands, in the time of the samizdat, before curved shower curtain rods, when they were straight, did we really and honestly live somehow?

I grow uncertain. We must have been much worse off. We lived in a different world. The world leans in and moves forward. Lives get longer. Poverty is reduced. Abuses are checked. Nostalgia is the refuge of the deluded.

Yet I wonder. Before dystopia, when utopia beckoned, before the new Prohibition, when lunches were liquid, before Beyonce, when we dug the Dead, before “join the conversation,” when things were disjointed, before gross inequality and the masters of the universe, when we resembled each other more, before reality shows, in the dullness of the real, I believe we got by just the same.

Before algorithms, when there was socialism, before YouTube, when there was you and me, before high-tech headphones, in the era of distance, we knew much less but felt much more.

Before I forget, while there is time, for the years pass and recall grows weaker, before the wiring accelerates, while I can pause, let me summon it back, that fragment from somewhere learned long ago, that phrase that goes: “The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society.”

That was Karl Marx in the 19th century, before Marxists became Bolsheviks, and Fascism arose, and Doublethink too, and humanity succumbed to the 20th-century bloodbath.

And if back in that century, in that distant and regrettable time, when we listened to the tides and the world was wider, before the tremendous technological leap, in the time of mists and drabness and faraway-ness and dreams, if back then, without passwords or WhatsApp groups, we managed just the same, even in black and white, how strange to think we had to change “the whole relations of society.”