In 1990, I was at the ripe old age of 11. The same age my youngest son is now. Most of the stuff that I remember about my childhood happened after this time period.
Like all generations, you have things that you remember about your significant developmental years that you just had no idea what you were doing at the time. How do I understand that you have no good reason for doing something that you really didn’t want to do?
MC Hammer Pants.
Pegging your jeans.
Men in cut-off jerseys, baring their midriffs.
Calling people “Wiggers”
Yeah. I went there.
How did we allow these atrocities to occur at the hands of our generation?
It’s a question I will ask myself in horror every time I watch the “Fly Girls” on “In Living Color.” Why, would we think it was acceptable for a man to wear a sleeveless shirt of any kind? You should NEVER see armpit hair unless you are at the beach or at home.
They are simply, crimes against humanity.
And like combating hunger, AIDS and genocide…we have to band together to never repeat the same mistakes twice.
We need change. (This is why I voted for Obama)
The New Kids on The Block. NKOTB. And Marky Mark…because he was an original member of the band.
“Donnie D’s on the backup. Drug-free, so put the crack up.”
I wonder how creepy it is for them to perform to audiences on their tour with the Backstreet Boys, and have 30-40 year old woman throwing their bras and panties at them? It’s got to be a life filled with lots of beer goggles and broken dreams. I wonder how many of their illegitimate children are introduced to them at their concerts?
“It was a starry night in Omaha, after the concert. He smelled like Drakkar Noir and Wild Turkey 101, and I was dressed like Donna from 90210. He kept wanting to call me Karen, even though my name is Jenny. It was magical.”
Every generation has their kryptonite. Those things that suddenly define you as a generation that you really wish didn’t. Like leisure suits and mutton chop sideburns. I mean, people HAD to be on heavy drugs to think that was attractive. For my children, it’s letting Miley Cyrus become famous and wanting hair like Justin Bieber.
In my day, we called that haircut Amish. It’s a bowl cut, folks.
I guess we just have to sit back and hope the next generation comes up with stuff that is more embarrassing than what we did.