I know absolutely nothing about the eighteen-eighties. This is what I assume they were like:
There is a lot of sweat. Sweat and dirt and dust. People’s faces are dirty all of the time, and underneath everyone’s fingernails it’s always dirty and disgusting. In general, people are very disgusting in the eighteen-eighties.
The word “colicky” is thrown around constantly.
People play billiards, not pool, and the tables are, like, bigger? Right? Like, the tables were much bigger than they are now. But the people were shorter. So, the sticks were too big and the people were too small, except for Abraham Lincoln, who is . . . dead at this point?
Lots of sweeping. People constantly sweeping their storefronts and their porches. People sweep, take a break from sweeping, wipe the sweat that has accumulated on their brows because of all the sweeping, and then they continue sweeping. Kids are told to sweep up before supper, which consists of . . . quail? Anyway, lots of sweeping. No mopping. Mops aren’t invented until 1974.
Baseball games are played, I think, and I believe (don’t quote me on this) that professional baseball exists. But the games are held in, like, open fields where regular people live. Like, near the woods and stuff. Also, regular everyday people play professional baseball. Not just, like, the Jose Cansecos and the Édgar Renterías of the world. The town baker, for example, could have also been a professional-baseball player. Basically, in the eighteen-eighties, if you owned a hat you could be a professional-baseball player is what I’m saying. But again, I also have no idea what I’m talking about, so . . .
Lots of coughing. Very loud, very aggressive, disease-infused coughing. And all the coughing is done into a handkerchief, which, when removed from the mouth, is covered with splotches of blood. In general, in the eighteen-eighties, there is a lot more exposed blood. People are bleeding pretty much all of the time. People’s blown-off limbs (Civil War?) are all bandaged up but you can see blood seeping through their bandages. Also, all former (Civil War?) soldiers who have had a leg blown off wear their uniforms at all times because these are their only clothes. They also only use one crutch, never two. So, in the eighteen-eighties, there is a lot more hobbling. And blood.
Rich men stand in front of mirrors and get measured for their new suits by tailors who look like James Joyce.
Children look very cute in their hats, suspenders, and wool pants, and all of them have scarlet fever and are on the cusp of death.
Women?
Lots and lots of very bored people sitting around waiting for the Harry Potter books to be written and released.
People take baths in, like, these tin bathtubs and the water is heated in a cauldron of some kind. People pay to have someone tend to the bath and continually pour hot water from the cauldron into the tubs. This tin-bathtub situation occurs in, I’m guessing, towns and villages where there are . . . inns? I really don’t know. To be honest, this one is straight out of the 1994 movie “Maverick.”
Locomotives. Not trains. Locomotives.
On Halloween, everyone dresses like Mark Twain. But everyone already looks like Mark Twain. So, Halloween is kind of a nothing holiday. Except for Mark Twain, who goes as the Wolfman.
When the sun goes down, people immediately fall asleep right where they’re standing. Electricity isn’t invented until 1957.
When people are sick, the doctor is called. The doctor is a highly respected man in the town. He has a very nice black-leather bag, and when he opens the bag there is a prominent clack sound. When the doctor enters the house, he is brought into the parlor where he is served coffee and cookies and told what the problem is. The doctor then nods his head, walks upstairs, enters the bedroom, and saws a man’s leg off.
Lots of stuff happens around troughs.
