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Children Of The Eighties
(No, it isn't a poem, but it is still good)
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first "lost
generation" nor today's lost generation; in fact, we think we know
just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.
We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were
just building blocks and gave Malibu Barbie crewcuts with safety
scissors that never really cut.We collected Garbage Pail Kids and
Cabbage Patch Kids and My LittlePonies and Hot Wheels and He-Man
action figures and thought She-Ra looked just a little bit like I
would when I was a woman.
Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the
way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city.
Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for
you to be Luke and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a
tent in the forest. Your world was the backyard and it was all you
needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang
back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove
like Michael Jackson's.
Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Stringsteen and The
Bangles perfectly and have no idea why. We recite lines with the
Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We
flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and
Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster
and what you talkin' 'bout Willis? We hold strong affections for The
Muppets and The Gummy Bears and why did they take the Snorks off the
air? After school specials were only about cigarettes and step-families,
the Pokka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the Power Rangers
just Voltron reincarnated?
We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys,
the Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and
the Electric Company. Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn't
break and friendship pins went on shoes - preferably hightop Velcro Reebox -
and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks and jean
jackets and jams and charm necklaces and side pony tails and just
tails. Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with colored
rubberbands made you cool.
The backdoor was always open and Mom served only red
Kool-Aid to the neighborhood kids- never drank New Coke.
Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was
high heels and an apron; the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy but never
made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons and Chinese Jump Ropes
never failed to trip someone. In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or
Spider Man or R2D2 and in your treehouse you were king.
In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was
shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter?
Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot
Vietnam and watched Tiananman's Square on CNN and bought pieces of the
Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the
United States. We didn't start the fire, Billy Joel. In the Eighties, we
redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us.
We are the generation in between strife and facing strife and not
turningour backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it's
that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children - the
first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget: We are the
children of the Eighties.
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