Stuck in the 80s

At the end of December and into the New Year, you can't avoid countless news stories, personal essays or organizations' reflections upon the year that just ended.  

However, I invariably drift further back.  Back to the 1980s. My favorite decade.

Music was very eclectic ranging from the glam, such as Adam Ant, to the anti-glam of Dexy's Midnight Ramblers (they wore overalls to express their disdain for the previously mentioned glam set).

Films advanced from the 70s films bashing the 60s films (hippies are the evil enemy) to instead focus on personal introspection (why were we doing all those drugs back in the 60-70s?)

I was so 80s oriented, I set several of my books back in the decade. TAX BREAK and WINGS OF HONOR both occur back then largely because I remembered the time so fondly.

The decade began roughly for me.  I was a struggling, starving student (and eventually unemployed college grad).  However, it ended well as eventually I found gainful, satisfying—and long term—employment and stability.
 

However, I think I am stuck in the 80s because of the women.

My most notable “near misses” happened back then.  For example, I previously blogged about Nancy, who I tell everyone would have been my wife of five kids if my roommate hadn’t ruined matters. 

One other “close encounter” blog dealt with Sue, who never came to relationship fruition due to a missing napkin.  She was yet another 80s woman who may have been destined to birth the hockey team I longed for.  Well, maybe not that many.  To this day, when I see the 80s music video by Semisonic, I dream about her.

Of course, my ultimate 80s crush female was Pat Benatar.  Yes, I blogged about her too because she not only inspired my love of 80s women, but also helped lead to me benching a soccer player.

The 80s women were special. They exuded a special sensuality that lured you in but were also some of the first strong female types that let you know that you better treat her right.

So keep your “last year retrospective” because I’m just going to plug in my “I love the 80s” music video DVD, watch Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long,” and remember back when women were wild and men were crazy.