Over the Easter break, I found myself doing what most red-blooded, 20-something males were doing: watching “Titanic.”
On a beautiful low-humidity weekend, I took in a matinee of what is considered one of the most overrated films of all time. The same exact film released in 1997, but wait for it – in 3-D.
I loved every second of it.
Yes, the storyline is hokey and some of the lines are so corny that I had to bring my own shucker, but it took me back to the days of when my hope was unsinkable, like Kathy Bates.
The days when all my hormones needed was that milky-white hand of Kate Winslet slapping the steam-filled car window for me to … realize just how much Windex it would take to clean such a handprint.
Don’t even get me started on the nude drawing. This was my first (and pretty much last) interaction with the female anatomy, and parts of me tingled like they had been dipped in Bengay.
Anyway, after a cold shower and performing “My Heart Will Go On” 12 times to the dog, I think I might be ready to continue this article.
You see, the ’90s had it right. The only phones that could be found outside of the house were in your car, and the only way we could get Internet was if AOL would send those free usage CDs in the mail.
The days when everyone loved Rosie O’Donnell, and we were too naive to question her seven kids and “roommate.” She was simply being economical; do you know how much it costs to live in Manhattan?
“Titanic” brought forth a wave of nostalgia for a decade that gave us jagged little pills, Tonya Harding and “The Jenny Jones Show”.
Nineties, where are you? I want it that way again.
But if I could find a genie in a bottle and I had the chance to hit it three more times, I know what I would wish:
1) A “Clinton” needs to be in the White House.
I do not care if it is Bill, Hillary or even Chelsea. Heck, I would even take that fancy man from “What Not to Wear.” Perhaps I was just too young to stress, but everyone seemed far less tense when Bubba was sitting in the Oval Office.
We were so happy that gas prices were low and jobs were abundant that we totally let the man off for getting off with the staff. That’s how carefree we were.
I yearn for the return of the laid-back Clinton-era. Perhaps we will get to dust off our pantsuits in 2016, or 2024 when Chelsea has divorced and married yours truly.
2) Child stars cannot build entertainment empires.
This wish makes it a mandate that if you are star on Disney or Nickelodeon, you can’t also make music and have clothing lines. You choose one.
We were not fooled into going to concerts where “Kenan and Kel” were headlining, nor was there a “Clarissa Explains It All” line at Kohl’s. We were perfectly content getting our fill through one medium at a time.
If I wanted to get my “Shelby Woo” or “Alex Mack” on, I had to wait for it to be televised. I couldn’t download their latest singles.
Those Olsen twins messed it up for everyone.
Oh, with that said, this wish also discontinues all reruns of “Full House.” Any remaining copies must be sent to Guantanamo Bay.
3) Adults must act adult-like.
As a child, I always felt like grown-ups acted like adults. They were smart, well-adjusted and able to get through everyday problems without breaking down.
These adults were mature, and I was so ready to stop being a kid so I could be a part of these more apt people.
As I get older, I am starting to feel like these adults have gone the way of Sally Jessy Raphael or Connie Chung.
Don’t get me wrong, some adults have made that successful transition, but we are still left with a large group of grown-up tots. (Which I think you can get for $2.99 at Sonic.)
This wish hastens the maturity of our childlike colleagues and puts an end to much of the unneeded drama that arises daily because of them.
I know the ’90s will never return, and I am sure I am remembering the decade more fondly than it actually was, but there is nothing wrong with looking back on the positives of past eras.
When I am doing this column 20 years from now, (for The New York Times, no doubt) I am sure I will be reminiscing about how good we had it in 2012 and we never knew it.
Maybe that’s what Rose and Jack were trying to get me to learn. Why wait to appreciate something decades later, when we can love it as it happens?
We may not have a James Horner score or Celine Dion to back us up, but we can still go out and create something we love and that is just as epic.
Now if you excuse me, there is an episode of “America’s Most Funniest Home Videos” on that won’t watch itself. That Bob Saget is a hoot.