I was born in '82 and even I feel old when I think about people being born in '85 being able to vote.
Oh, yeah. My wife and I were surfing channels a couple of years ago and flipped to an infomercial jam-packed with 80s hits. It was a “flashback soundtrack,” of course: Belinda Carlisle, Kajagoogoo, The Fixx, A-Ha, Duran Duran, Pat Benatar, the Kinks, the Go-Gos, and more. We were transfixed, against our will, even when the commercial said something vaguely distressing, along the lines of, “Twenty years ago, a classic era in music was born,” or something like that.
“My God,” we said to each other, “they’re manipulating us. And it’s working.”
We sat there for ten or fifteen minutes, watching the hits of our high school years march past, while regularly muttering to ourselves, Must resist urge to pick up phone… We have the willpower to deny such a bald-faced appeal to youth and nostalgia… We can resist… We must resist… must…
Until finally we said “screw it” and spent the twenty bucks. We listen to the collection a lot. Makes us feel young. Or young-ish, anyway. I never said we were proud of it.
And now we’re seeing Nineties flashback collections being advertised. Please, pass the ear trumpet so I can hear the tee vee…
On this date in 1985 I was the proud still-nervous mommy of a 7-month old girl.
Today that girl gets to vote. She’s very serious about it. Through the campaign season she and I have debated the positions of the various candidates. Although she and I will not vote the same in every race, I think that’s part of the grand beauty of it all.
You young’us rock.
