A Simpler Time

I long for a simpler time and by simpler I mean the 80s. I had great hair, and even though it was a mullet in the back it was so nice and fluffy on top I could have done a handstand and dusted.

My favorite ensem was a black and white striped shirt with black parachute pants. The shirt was skin tight but I was a gymnastics teacher than so it worked. Actually I could still fit into both of those but thankfully they’re not around. I would dance FEROCIOUSLY to Michael Jackson and one one of his hits was played every fifteen minutes at the clubs, so there were plenty of chances. The dance teacher at the gym had taught us the moves so I felt like I was in the video when I was out on the floor spinning. We were the coolest white guys on the north side of Chicago.

I was horribly inept at flirting with girls but luckily i met a great one in the adult gymnastics class and she looked AMAZING in a leotard. Her name is Trish and we were blissfully in love for five years. We made out everywhere and were told “you can’t do that in the post office.” We could be happy just spooning and watching Cheers, Family Ties and whatever the rest of the Thursday night line-up was. I hope she’s happy.

Cell phones were the size of your thigh and all they did was call someone. So you had to ask for directions, go to a restaurant someone recommended to you, and get together with people instead of simply connecting on Facebook. And you wanted to. And you talked.

You talked in restaurants, you talked at parties, and you talked on car trips—or maybe you just sat in silence. Remember silence. I remember when the occasional drunk couple would have a fight on the street but now you’re constantly barraged by people fighting on speaker phones.

I miss seeing people talking and laughing and being respectful to others, not ignoring them on their phone. I can’t help but feel a lot of people are missing out on so much life by staring at a screen.  Instead of dancing to Michael Jackson.