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 go.
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 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 Springstein 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 Care Bears and why did they take the SMURFS off
the air? After school specials were only about cigarettes and
stepfamilies, the Pokka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the
Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated?
We are the ones who still read Nany Drew and the Hardy Boys, the
Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the
Electric Company. Friendship pins went on shoes-preferably hightop
Velcro Reeboks 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
rubber bands 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.
Never forget: We are the children of the Eighties!