Tag Archives: 1980’s

Ode to the 80’s

22 Mar

This is just an ever so slight music ode that may or may not veer off,  for the 1980’s couldn’t be captured in a mere blog post, no.

I mean, there is no way I could fully podium Madonna, for starters.

“Gonna dress you up in my love. Get into the groove, boy, you’ve got to prove your love to me. Papa don’t preach. I’m in love again. I’ve made up my mind; I’m keeping my baby. Borderline. Feels like I’m going to lose my mind. Gonna dress you up in my love. You might be my lucky star ’cause you shine on me wherever you are…I hope I live to tell.”

They just don’t make music like this anymore. Has anyone even heard from Tears for Fears?

And where did the Jets go? Any chance of Kool & the Gang doing a reunion tour?

How could I possibly forget songs by Gregory Abbott or Cameo?

These were the days pre-cable when on Saturday mornings I would get up after a teenaged night of drinking four consecutive sodas and 3.5 slices of pizza and turn on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand and see George Michael of WHAM!  in a huge t-shirt with one shoulder exposed singing “Careless Whisper.” Or Foreigner oozing “I Want to Know What Love Is.”

While I stumbled out of bed I would actually take sips from the can of soda that sat on the nightstand all night. See, before going to sleep I would plug up the can hole with tissue to preserve the fizz. Sure, the sugar liquid was room temperature but the fizz was still intact at 11 a.m. eastern time. 

Gosh, there were delicious bands like Simply Red and The Human League and Club Nouveau. And, geesh, Bruce Hornsby & the Range.

I could meet a cute guy at the mall on Monday and be IN LOVE with him on Tuesday by lunchtime. His full name would be drawn all over my notebook in swirly swirls and I would get caught daydreaming in biology 101 and given the evil eye by Mr. Snister whose entire life was centered around copper and helium. Three Tuesdays later I would loathe the guy from the mall because I’d find out that he wasn’t that into me after all and had only one thing in mind and there I was stuck with his full name all over my notebook. Meanwhile he didn’t even know my last name. Flared nostrils.

I had gobs of friends. I rode big yellow school buses. I had big dreams of going to Hollywood and becoming a star, having my name on the Walk of Fame. PMS hadn’t yet entered my body and the words “sodium ” and “cholesterol” were foreign terms I could care less about. This was before anyone could look my way and label me a barren spinster. Jokingly, of course. This was when shows like St. Elsewhere were on television. And Family Ties and The Wonder Years. Shows with real opening theme music.

This was before the snake pit that Vh-1 is becoming. Or the sewage hole of most cable television. Long live the sitcom!

I wonder, could there even be a modern day Mr. Belvedere? Has anyone even seen Wesley?

Just a slight ode. My soul can’t take further reminiscing. I told you this would veer off from the topic of music.