Yesterday's luxuries are today's necessities. 

In a world where "luxury" means five-star spa resorts and sleek four-door sedans, have we lost our ability to appreciate the day-to-day pleasures of 21st-century living? 

A car in the garage, a television in the living room, and a refrigerator in the kitchen. Our grandparents saved their pennies for these now commonplace items.

And the trend from extraordinary to ordinary continues. We've already seen how quickly personal computers and cell phones have morphed into household necessities.

What about the convenience of on-demand hot, running water? I had never given this much thought as I poured my bath every night before bed. But a few weeks ago, as I settled in for a nice, long soak, I thought of Merton Pike and the winter his family lost their household water supply. For the entire season. On a dairy farm in northern Vermont.

The Pike family has operated Keewaydin farm on Route 100 just south of Stowe since 1921. I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Merton, 90, for Stowe Speaks, a community oral history project sponsored by Stowe Historical Society. 

When the water pipe that fed the barn froze that winter in the early 1930s, the family had to act fast to keep their cows hydrated.

"We rigged it up to have water that we could get out of the river, baled it into a sap tank, and put that into a tank in the barn and baled it out to each cow," Merton recalls. "Cows drink a lot of water when you're lugging it to them."

Although they were able to get the spring that fed the barn running again after a few days, the water supply to the house never did get going. 

What did these hard-working men do? They carried milk cans filled with spring water from the tank in the barn, into their home, up the long flight of stairs to the second floor, and then poured the water into an old washing machine tub that fed it into a pipe which circulated the water back downstairs, warming it by the wood stove. Then they lugged the warm water from the kitchen back upstairs  ... just to take a bath. 

Nothing like a little perspective from generations past to help us appreciate the niceties of today. That hot water running from the tap in my bathroom never felt as luxurious as it did the night after my interview with Merton Pike. 

Merton's story, one of many he told that day, gave me a new perspective on entitlement and privilege. Instead of thinking, "Ah, I deserve this," as I sink into a warm bath at the end of a long day, I remember the Pikes and the winter their baths required hauling jugs of water through the deep snow and up a flight of stairs for the second time in a row. And instead I think, "Boy, am I lucky."

A friend of mine took up flying when he was nearing 70. He is now an active volunteer for Angel Flights, flying critically ill men, women and children to far-away hospitals for treatment. 

A 98-year-old woman I know spends hours of otherwise idle time sketching pictures of flowers and landscapes with a ball-point pen on white type paper — and making collages from magazine cut-outs. She also picked up the accordian for the first time in her 70s — and now entertains "seniors" at local senior centers. Incidentally, she learned how to boogie-board around the same time.

I met a man the other day in his mid 80s who has been diligently writing his life story and piecing together his family geneology through online research.

Adopting new hobbies and seeking opportunities to learn something new is part of the magic formula for living a long, healthy life. It seems to be a key component, in fact. According to an online article "Hobbies Keep Centenarians Sharp," these pastimes help keep our minds sharp and agile. 

If you've always wanted to learn to play the piano or speak German, stop thinking of it as an indulgence for tomorrow. More likely, it's a health tonic for today.

In her book, "Culture and Commitment: A Study of the Generation Gap," published in 1977, social anthropologist Margaret Mead explained the growing divide between the younger and older generations. 

The chasm, she said, began to show itself in the early 20th century when immigrant families began to rely on their younger members to help them assimilate and find their way in the new culture. 

For the first time in history, the experience of the elders seemed no longer relevant to the current generation's ability to navigate the future.

Just a few decades later, the outbreak of the Vietnam War and the growing distrust of authority widened the divide between young and old. 

Practically every step forward we've taken as a culture since then has been to the detriment of the "chain of wisdom" that had existed for millenia. Increased geographic mobility; segregation of the generations (nursing homes and retirement communities; college campuses and suburban neighborhoods); the speed of technology and changes in the way we communicate; our hectic, over-scheduled lives and double-income families ... and on and on and on.

I think that we're just now beginning to realize that we've lost something along the way. That in this time of fear and transition in our world — our elders may have something to offer us. At least I hope that we're self-aware enough as a culture to acknowledge the gap. Because it's there.

"In the United States they have a Bill of Rights that they added on to the Constitution of the United States, and I think that should have been a Bill of Responsibility, not a Bill of Rights. Cause people talk about their rights, their rights — but they never talk about their responsibility. And leadership has got to have that, above all."
Native American elder

We may be the first generation of Americans that no longer looks to our elders for guidance about how to live — our values, skills, direction. What are we missing, as a result?

The Native American culture deeply respects the wisdom of their elders. This clip is Part 2 in a fascinating five-part series on "Native American Elders Speak Wisdom" on YouTube. 

Centenarians have been in the news lately. Just this week a Cleveland woman turned 119. Imagine that. She was born in 1892. Here's a video clip from her birthday celebration.

Through my work, I've noticed common traits shared by men and women living joyful, productive, healthy lives past age 90. First of all, they don't let age tell them what they should or shouldn't be doing. They're cautious, but they're also optimistic. For example, they may use a walker to avoid falling, but if they fall, they're sure they're going to recover.

Other characteristics of our "senior" seniors: having a wide and strong social network, staying mentally and physically active, eating and drinking in moderation, having a "glass is half full" approach to life, and following a religious faith.

A website dedicated to the study of centenarians says that geography and genes also have something to do with it. Apparently, there's a "centenarian belt" that extends from Minnesota up through Nova Scotia, which may be attributed to those hearty Celtic or Scottish genetics. The world's oldest man recently turned 114. And wouldn't you know it? He lives in Minnesota.

Most centenarians also have at least one other long-lived relative, prompting researchers to believe that there's a genetic predisposition to reaching old age.

But for the rest of us who don't have geography or genetics on our side, there's still hope. We can work harder to: manage stress, nourish our friendships and grow new ones, keep learning, stay physically fit, say "no" to cigarettes and excessive alcohol, and develop our spirituality.

Ever wish you could retreat to the simplicity and comfort of the past? Look no further than a suburban neighborhood in Chicago, Illinois.   

Here are some great visual images of what the past envisioned for our world today. 

Enjoy!

Clothing of the "Future" — What designers in the 1930s thought we'd be wearing today. This is hysterical.

1967 Future Prediction: The PC — Clip from film 1999 A.D. shows glimpses of the "home computer" as imagined 40-plus years ago.

Disney's 1957 House of the Future — Promotional video put out by Disneyland predicting the homes of today.

When we were contacted by a census worker this past spring, I gave the process very little thought. It seemed fairly irrelevant to my life now or down the road.

But my attitude has shifted, having recently stumbled upon Thom Patterson's article What the census can teach us about ourselves. Census records connect past and future — whichever direction you look.

The data collected last year will give the "future" a window to the past, providing our great-grandchildren valuable insight about how we lived in the first part of the 21st century. 

"Basic population statistics are released soon after each census is tabulated," Patterson wrote. "However, for privacy protection, documents with names and personal details of respondents aren't released for 72 years."

So fast-forward to 2082. What interesting tidbits will future family historians uncover about our lives? Patterson wrote, for example, that the effects of the recession will be evident to future historians by the number households with families doubling-up or adult children living with their parents.

But most of Patterson's article discusses the value of past census records in our lives today. They can offer key information about previously unknown or misunderstood pieces of our family history. 

My husband's family has recently uncovered some new and surprising information about his grandmother and her family — all because of census information gathered a century ago. Patterson provides some great insights about what information census records provide — and how to find it.

Ancestry.com is a great place to start sifting around for information about your ancestors (as far back as 1790). The 1930 census is the most recent census details released. You may be surprised by what you'll find …. 

Yes, it's true. We're a "disposable society."  But we regularly dispose of more than blenders, jeans, and laptops.  

We clean out our "Sent" email files and neglect to print out our digital photos. Most of our personal information sits on our hard drives or on servers of password-protected internet companies, says Professor John Naughton in a recent article.

What we know about our great-grandparents and their parents is primarily gathered through old letters, photos, and diaries. But those tangible written communications from the past to the future have been replaced by the less-tangible — emails, Facebook posts, and blog entries. 

What are we doing to ensure that our family's digital library is protected … when the computer crashes or we're no longer around to keep up our Facebook page. 

Naughton writes about the importance of keeping a printed record of our online communications — or using a service like Entrustet to do the digital archiving for you. He says that we may be "carelessly or unwittingly — consigning the records of our lives to the digital shredder."  

Remember the Jetsons? I was certain that by the time I had kids of my own, we'd all own flying cars and have robot housekeepers. Rosie would be such a great addition to my household.

I wonder how accurately we imagine the world of tomorrow? 

At the end of most life-story interviews, I like to take some time to pass along thoughts, hopes, wishes to the future — distant and not-so-distant. What are your hopes for your grandchildren? What concerns do you have about the world that your grandchildren and great-grandchildren will inherit? 

Too bad most of us don't have our great-grandparents' answers to these questions. It would be interesting to hear what they envisioned about the world that awaited their great-great-grandchildren — the youth of today.

On her site, Brainpickings.com, Maria Popover has dug up six visions of the future, left to us from the past. They cover topics from travel, clothing, architecture, technology and communications — even snippets from Walt Disney's program "Tomorrowland." Fascinating stuff. Be sure to watch the "Clothing of the Future" video clip from the 1930s ….