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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 Little
Ponies 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 Springsteen 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 wonder why did they take the
Smurfs 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 - you 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 turning our
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.
Author unknown.
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