Sunday, October 12, 2008

1985

"They tell her that she's uncool
But she's still preoccupied
With 1985"
- Bowling for Soup
My son was brokenhearted to learn that this song was not recorded in 1985, but nineteen years later as a nostalgic ode to all things eighties. Or at least the things that we remember from watching MTV. With all the hushed reverence for Ronald Reagan in the past few months, it seems that even the world of politics has been consumed by this blast from the past.
Last night I went to a fortieth birthday party. It was billed as "an eighties dance party." That appealed to me, since a good portion of that decade was spent by me in sweaty clubs dancing to New Wave hits. Part of the appeal at that time were the dollar pitchers of 3.2 beer that not only drew me to their establishments because of their price point, but the lowered inhibition level that drinking this swill allowed me. If I had been sitting in a poorly ventilated room illuminated by a few flashing lights with Talking Heads music blaring at me without quarts of beer to consume, I might never have reached the dance floor.
But that's exactly what I did. I went to clubs, drank for a while, and then when I was sufficiently "limbered up," I would shake my booty. And that's the way my weekends were spent during most of the Reagan administration and into the reign of "Poppy" Bush. Then, when my drinking days ended, I retired from the dance floor.
I don't twist the night away very often anymore. It takes a very safe environment and just the right set of circumstances for me to get my groove thing on, but once I get started, it's hard to get me to sit down. It helps if the music comes from that quirky period of self-indulgence, and it helps if they play it real loud., but last night I had just the right number of cola beverages and a nice safe place to hop and bop. It was a magical night. For me, anyway.

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