Hark! I hear Yesteryear!

Oooh!!! the most thrilling thing just went past the window of the little room in which I write. 'Twas a Rag and Bone truck. Remember them? I don't think I've seen one since I was a teenager and still living with my parents. Even then I couldn't quite make out what it was they were actually yelling from the seat at the front (it used to be a horse and cart - proper Steptoe stuff back then)any more than I could make out what the guy was yelling from his cab just now. It starts off kinda "Any...any...any...any...any...
mumble...mumble...mumble...rag and bone!"
I do get the last three words - oh, and the first one, obviously...Only what they had on the back looked a lot more like metal than rag or bone. A fridge, a metal gate, an iron bath tub and loads of pipes. Maybe they weren't saying "rag and bone" then - maybe they're metal merchants these days, are they?
Anybody?
I mean, what would anybody do with a load of proper rag and/or bone these days anyway?
Anybody?
Not that I'm all that interested what they're collecting really - I mean we all must make our way in this world by whatever means are available to us - it just threw me back to my childhood and then I remembered a couple other things that made me all wistful and nostalgic:
1. The Salvation Army singing carols at Christmas on the corner of our street that I used to watch from my bedroom window (classic Dickensian picture).
2. The Strawberry truck and the incredible smell that used to accompany it.
3. The Duster/peg man who used to have everything you could possibly need for the house - and some things you knew you'd never use but bought anyway because you felt sorry for him.
4. The Lucky Heather lady - always scarily persuasive even though a part of you wanted to snort 'scary awl hag' at her and run away (difficult action to pull off with any aplomb when it's your doorway she's standing at).
5. The lovely Binmen - when they actually didn't mind unlatching a back gate, walking down your path and lifting the bin from it's home - none of this poncing about demanding bins are left in a designated zone. And Binmen - if you're reading this (you never know...) that's why we don't give you a Chistmas tip anymore - what's to reward?!
Pah!
Ahhh..... now I feel all soporiphic and yearnful for the Good Ol' Days.
It'd be great if we could embrace our yesteryear before it ups and becomes just that - one day these will be the Good ol' days...
Well, okay, maybe just ol'.