Every day, I am reminded by such ghost sign reminders of the "old days," not the ones only my parents or grandparents talked about, but ones I remember and even younger folks do. Just the other day, a former student sent me a funny video of two children trying to put a tape in a parent's Walkman, something I never owned but the generation below mine certainly did.
Perhaps out of longing for people long gone or nostalgia about my own childhood, I love these ghost signs for the same reason I love weathered brick and wood: like wrinkled faces or ropily-veined hands, they wear their age well.
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