It’s been 13 years since I’ve had a good year. The year was 1989, and at the time everything in the world was basically good. I was 15 years old and had just gotten my driver’s license. My life revolved around sports, high school and chasing girls. Believe it or not, the fastest animal in the world isn’t the cheetah-it’s a teenage girl running from a pimple-faced boy.
The 1980s were my golden years. It was a time before Generation X and all the garbage that it spawned. Even though the internet was around, the closest thing I had to a computer was a Casio scientific calculator, and I still don’t know how to use the sine or cosine keys.
We were the last generation that had to buy pornography from a convenience store. There was no such thing as www.nakedchicks.com.
Lumberjacks were the only ones wearing flannel. We wore Panama Jack T-shirts, bleached jeans and Nike Cross Trainers. You weren’t cool if you didn’t have a leather bomber jacket and Ray-Ban sunglasses.
Our president didn’t have sex with interns, and cigars were made for smoking. Oklahoma City hadn’t been bombed, and there wasn’t a nut going wacko in Waco.
Major league baseball teams weren’t trying to buy the World Series. The Braves were bad and the New York Yankees really weren’t that good. Cal Ripkin, Jr. and Tony Gwynn were in their prime. The best players in the NBA didn’t have tattoos and cornrows. We had Magic and Larry Legend. Jordan was still human and nobody knew that he was terrible at baseball. Football was dominated by Marino, Montana and Elway. Instant replay was for Pat Summerall and John Madden. Somebody besides Tiger Woods had a chance to win a golf tournament.
Our music was from Guns ‘n’ Roses, Motley Crue and Bon Jovi. Run DMC and Tone Loc were rapping while George Strait was the king of country.
A Mustang GT was the car of choice, and only good ole boys drove trucks. For some reason, buying a truck seems to be a big thing with yuppies. I even heard a guy say one time, “Don’t put that in the back of my truck, it might scratch the bedliner.” I know some good ole boys who would consider that a felony.
Anthrax was a rock band, not something that might show up in your mail and make you sick. Russia was losing its fight with Afghanistan and we were about to win one with Iraq.
AIDS was something that was for San Francisco and other big cities. It just didn’t happen around here. In today’s society, if you don’t wear a Kevlar condom, you’ve got a good chance of catching something with no cure. If you can’t cure it with a BC Headache Powder or Gold Bond, you don’t need it.
The ’90s were a blur, and we’re now two years into the millennium. Like the rest of the world, I’ve adjusted and made changes, too. I’ve got less hair, more fat and my pimples have cleared up nicely.
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Flash back to 1980s
Mark Beason
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January 15, 2002
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