I Love the 1980s...or Do I?

There’s something very special  to me about the 1980s. I was a spry, callow fellow back then—an innocent college grad with, as they say, my whole life ahead of me. Surely, this was the time to boldly go somewhere…anywhere.

Fast-forward a quarter of a century. Once upon a time, I was listening to 1980s pop music on New York City's local radio stations and then, presto, it’s now. How on earth did that happen? The 1980s were a time when the Twin Towers tranquilly loomed in lower Manhattan; a time before snowballing technology and job outsourcing; a time before laptops, cell phones, and iPods wholly occupied the masses. Culturally speaking at least, there is no denying the 1980s were a less complicated time. Personally, this decade found me on life’s launching pad—ten, nine, eight, seven—but I didn't quite blast off.

I suspect feelings of missed opportunities, of entirely too many wasted days and nights, is why I often hark back to this decade, the one where The Equalizer strutted his stuff every week. It is why certain 1980s pop songs strike such resounding, on-key chords with me. I am taken to, in one real sense, vastly simpler times. You know, when so, so, so many things seemed possible—I wouldn’t dare say all things. When, at least, there was no sense of urgency and those awful sensations of time imminently running out. Ah…to be young again…in the 1980s.

But now, courtesy of YouTube, and the ever-advancing technologies that weren't around in those bygone days, I return to the 1980s when I am so inclined. I regularly resurrect the sights and sounds of that optimistic decade. It was a great time to be alive. But I suppose a fair case could be made that it wasn’t especially great for me. I really love the 1980s…or do I?