Children of the Eighties


We are the children of the Eighties.  We are not the first "lost
generation," not 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 haircuts with safety scissors that never
really cut. We collected Garbage Pail Kids and My Little Ponies and Hot
Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought She-Ra would look 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 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 the backup 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 
filp through TV stations and stop at the A Team and Knight Rider and 
Fame and still laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and what you 
talkin' 'bout Willis?  We hold strong affections for The Muppets and 
The Gummy Bears and why did they take Smurfs off the air? After school 
specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, The Polka Dot 
Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't Power Rangers just Voltron 
reincarnated?  We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and The Hardy
Boys, The Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume, Richard Scarry 
and The Electric Company.  Friendship bracelets were the ties you
couldn't break and friendship pins went on shoes- preferably hightop
Velcro Reeboks- and pegged jeans in, as were Unit belts and layered 
socks and jean jackets and Jams and charm bracelets and side ponytails 
and 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 Spiderman 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 a 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
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.  If this is familiar, you are one of 
us........

