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The X Generation
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 crew cuts 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 Tree House 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 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 Reebok 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 rats' 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 tree house 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. We didn't start the
fire, Billy Joel.
In the Eighties, we redefined the 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. If this is familiar, you are one of us... pass it on to all the
others...
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