I’ve been working on a piece for the whole week and just can’t quite get it. It’s up around 1,500 words right now, and it works for me, but it takes a sharp turn in the middle and I’m afraid correcting it (or at least, making the turn work) is going to take some time and thought. That’s probably why my writing this week on this blog has been a bit scattered and brief. I’ve found myself having to get something together later each evening as I’m yet again dissatisfied with the work. Bear with me. I’ll get there. But until then, here is yet another bit of musing that struck me today and gave me a little subject matter. Not much, but something interesting to me, nonetheless.
I was born in the 60s, grew up in the 70s, left home in the 80s.
I suppose we romanticize our childhoods, so I really haven’t got anything bad to say about the first two decades. Those (and anyone’s first two decades for that matter) times were carefree and decent for a kid growing up in small-town Wisconsin. It’s not until later that we get cynical and sour and decide that this world is no place to raise a kid (never one of my sentiments, but I’ve heard it before).
But the kid to be raised doesn’t know that. They adapt. They’ll be as fine as we were. I only say this all, though, to bring me about to those 80s.
I’ve got some great memories from that decade. Graduated high school and joined the Air Force. Learned Chinese and went overseas. Experienced the world. Got married and had two wonderful children.
But if I were to step outside of the good times and highlights of my life that happened at the time and look at it objectively, I’d have to say the decade has much about which it can be embarrassed. I give you the following three exhibits as evidence:
To tell you the truth though, all three of these songs were good at the time in their own right — and if it weren’t for the absolutely atrocious videography, disjointed story lines, and overall bizarre nature of the music (I’m talking to you, Devo and Grace Jones), there might be something to redeem here. If you haven’t watched yet, please do. The degree of horror you feel will depend upon whether you actually lived it or not. But if you did live it, there may be something there for you. Some kind of gentle memory that makes you smile. I hope you do, regardless.