The title of this blog sounds like the title
of a political speech, to me anyways. Sounds like I should be saying, “good
evening my fellow Americans” but I am not.
Instead I have decided that since I am
approaching my mid thirties I have to stand up and say my name is Donna and I
am becoming an old person. I am longing for the things I love to stay the same
while finally acknowledging that my childhood was sweet. Better than that, it
was low tech.
Every time I read a memoir, my preferred type
of book, I am fascinated when authors say how idyllic their childhood was. It
makes me question mine and when I force myself to, I feel like I can only
remember bits and pieces. But when I ponder this question for a longer about of
time it all comes together, gradually. Seeing Instagram and Facebook posts from
sites like “Throwback” and “What Where You Doing in The 80’?s” are also a huge
help.
Apparently I am from Generation Y,
a Millennial by definition being that I was born between 1980-1994. To be exact
I was born in 1981. In my neighborhood the big thrill
everyday was rushing home from school to ride your bike back and forth down the
block with your friends. Being outside was EVERYTHING. That’s because there was
nothing and no one inside to tempt you. If you had a bike with rainbow spokes
and a basket on it, you were the cool girl on the block. We lived for the days
during the summer when block parties took place because than you could ride
your bike in the street! Talk about your good times and they really were.
As motorized toys were coming into fashion I couldn’t wait
to visit my favorite cousins house. They had a kid version of a Jeep truck and
back then three of us could fit in it at once! A ride up and down the driveway
was living the highlife. Playing school and house were my life as a girl. It
was a little something called MAKE BELIEVE. That is something all kids should
need.
When I was around four or five it was my turn. I got a
purple motorcycle and it was my jam! I am not nor have I ever been the kind of
girl who strives to attain biker chick status but damn it if I didn’t ride that
thing until the batteries were permanently dead and the tires could no longer
be taped back together.
Now I understand why folks like my
dad remiss about music and pop culture in “their” time, which has been gone
longer than I have been alive. If he hears a song from fifty years ago the
volume must go WAY up. He also thinks prices are the same from fifty years ago,
sorry to say Pops sneakers are no longer twenty dollars even in Payless. For
that matter he also thinks that my brother has the only phone in America that
can provide information on command. However he can only communicate with Siri
through my brother of course. For goodness sakes this is a man that once
brought our cordless phone into the car and wanted to know when I arrived home,
naturally soaking wet from a storm, why I didn’t call for a ride? The reason of
course was that I was calling his cell, which was at home, and the cordless
didn’t ring because it was out of range, so I couldn’t call even if I wanted
to.
Ok that’s enough about my dad
because I am starting to get mad about that last doozy all over again. But it
proves my thesis- when we aren’t looking the times we cherish is part of our
culture that won’t come back again. We are becoming our parents and ragging on
what kids of today are in to.
Kids of today would literally die
and fall apart at the seams spending one day as a child in the late eighties or
early nineties. When you needed information you asked your parents and if it
was homework related you broke out the encyclopedia. There was nowhere to
search for information. There were no computers. I took typing class on a
typewriter. Back in the day you winged directions, plans, pretty much everyday
life.
This brings me to my bus story,
which my family LOVES. The short version is that when a parent teaches you how
to use public transportation, for your first day of high school, but neglects
to notice the bus number and line has changed, you learn the hard way how to
get to and from school. It is not a fun memory but my parents had an out, there
wasn’t an Internet. I suspect those behind its creation had a bus story in
their families too.
Growing up there was no cable in
my house and worse yet when I was only a few years old we had a TV that didn’t
have a remote. You had to actually get up and go to the television set to
select which of the five channels you wanted to watch. My mother likes to tell
the story that I use to walk by and shut it off just to annoy them. I can’t
deny it, sounds too much like something I would do. Better yet there was no TV
after midnight. Literally there was nothing on the screen but squiggly black
lines until the next morning.
When I was in the sixth grade I
got my first CD stereo. My first CD was Mariah Carey’s original Christmas
album. I stand by that purchase, as it is still a classic. My mother told me
not to spend too much money on CDs because they would be replaced by something
else soon. She was right even though it took over twenty years to happen.
In college I got a TV/VCR for my
dorm room sophomore year and that was a proud possession. I miss my MTV and the
revolutionary show, Total Request Live (TRL). I held onto my Discman as long as
was physically possible. Currently I am wishing I still had it now. I am still
miffed that new cars no longer come with CD players! What is this world coming
to I ask you?! I am still using my iPod thank you very much. You will have to
pry it out of my cold dead hands before I am streaming anything. Heck I still
miss having a beeper that every once and a while someone would spell out BOOBS
for a laugh, guess you had to be there for that one.
Nowadays kids still in diapers are
on YouTube using their parent iPads with the quickness. I don’t know how they
are born with this ability and yet my father can’t be taught how to do it. This
must be the result of some unknown evolutionary skills. We have gone from a
society of hunters and gatherers to a generation of kids playing fake bowling
on the Wii, which I know is out of date as well.
What are we in such a hurry for? I
never thought the Jetsons was going to be a reality but who the hell knows now.
We don’t even have scripted sitcoms or plays anymore. Everything is a reality
show and playwrights are taking ideas from the movies, while the movies redo
the same stories literally every few years. No one wants to work. Those in the
business appear lazy. It’s easier to use an old idea and make it new again.
However this just keeps our culture stagnant, frustrating as hell to me.
It happens with clothing too. As a
child in the late eighties things were neon and matching. Ironically those two
are now back in style. So are stretch pants, which I lived in, and still do except
that now they are called leggings to make them seem stylish. How about stirrup
pants people? Admit it, they were awesome. We had so much fun maybe that is the
reason it all ends up coming back around.
I suppose this non-speech turned
into a pretty preachy post but so it goes. We have to appreciate the times of
our lives and however they influence who we become. I now know the value of
mine with this careful analysis. I am thirty-four plain and simple. I am from
Brooklyn. A city kid who spent a childhood in pools, riding bikes, playing with
friends, and begging to stay outside as late as possible so that I could catch
more than my fair share of fireflies.
I am from a time that no longer
exists except in photographs and memories.
I am still struggling recognizing
that the O.J. Simpson trial was back in 1995.
I remember being in the seventh
grade watching the verdict come in on a giant TV wheeled into our classroom for
the occasion.
I remember being at work at CVS as
a senior in high school, in 1999, learning about the Columbine shooting having
no idea what a school shooting was.
Christ even JonBenet Ramsey has
been dead twenty years already.
Our elders are right; time just
keeps slipping by faster and faster. I suspect many of my readers will have to
do a few Google searches to clarify my stories. I recommend reading the links
below as well.
Moving forward I will continue to
retell those stories from long ago, even if no one but me appreciates them. My
nostalgic soul will smile and know that somewhere in the future these will
provide an interesting chapter in my autobiography.
What are the stories from your
generation?
Whatever they are hold onto them dearly.
For More Information:
Well done Donna. I also wish we could go back for some of those old days. Especially sad that Grandma isn't around to see what a awesome writer you became. She loved reading and would have loved your blog.xo
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