I do, I do. There’s always engine noise. You can’t escape it. I can’t even imagine what life must have been like five hundred years ago. It must have been so quiet and peaceful. No cars, no radios, no tvs, no planes, not the constant droning of some kind of engine, not even lights.

In the evenings it would be calm and quiet and dark, apart from conversation, maybe some birds chirping, the sounds of an inn cooking dinner and serving guests, the only light coming from flickering candles or torches or fires. Streets were for walking. You’d meet people, friends, enemies, children, pretty girls, and I believe it would all be fairly hushed early in the evening, because people would go to bed when it was dark and no further work could be done for the day, and men would sit huddled around campfires and drink whatever beverage they had, like wine or beer, from bottles made of glass or clay.

Sure, there’d be some serious drawbacks to that life too, but at least their air wasn’t poison, they didn’t breathe poison.