I have come to a conclusion about my life thus far. I’m getting old. Really, really old. Now for those of you who have been on the earth longer than three decades, you are probably scoffing at me being aged. But hear me out; I am serious. Being a whopping 25 years old, I am starting to get up there in the wrinkling ages.
The other night I was sitting around with my little sister/next door neighbors kicking back, flipping through the channels, enjoying some chips and guacamole, when suddenly I had an epiphany about our relationship with one another.
“You know, I feel kind of like Sam on ‘Clarissa Explains It All,’” I said, referring to my random intrusion into their apartment and how relaxed everything is between us.
Their response of “Who the heck is that?” and “What show are you talking about?” totally set me back. They didn’t know what I was referring to. Not only had they never heard about the show, they thought I was making the whole thing up, claiming that long before Melissa Joan Hart was known as Sabrina the Teenage Witch, she was made famous on a Snick show.
There’s another thing that made me feel overly mature. Neither one of them had any idea what Snick was. The Saturday night Nickelodeon kids-staying-up-late broadcasting experience was something completely foreign to them. They never heard of shows like “Salute Your Shorts,” “Are You Afraid of the Dark?,” “Ren and Stimpy,” “Aaaaahhh, Real Monsters” and my all-time favorite, “The Great Adventures of Pete and Pete.” How old am I getting here to have grown up on these shows and nobody else knows what they are?
It’s not just the television aspect that adds on to my elderly irony. The things we played with only worsen it, things like Giga Pets, Ninja Turtles, and the best invention of all time, Pogs. Pogs easily were the greatest invention to ever have been born. And I’ll tell you what, I had one heck of a collection with quite a few wicked “slammers.”
I referenced the awesomeness of Pogs the other day in my Public Speaking class, and almost all of the kids gave me blank stares back confused at what in the world I was talking about. I know that this was a fad that came out when I was in 6th grade, and the majority of these kids probably hadn't been conceived yet, but still, Pogs are infamous! Not just famous, in famous...
And when we as kids got tired of the giant Pog wars day after day, we would forecast each other’s future with a M.A.S.H. prophecy that would tell what kind of house we would live in, who our spouse was, what kind of car we would drive, and how many kids we would have. I’m still holding on to the prediction that I am going to live in a mansion, marry Krystle Bailey, drive a Porsche, and have 15 kids. Hey, it is still going to happen.
Those were the days, I tell you, those were the days. Back when I got my very first Walkman for Christmas and when “Hey Macarena” was the single of the year. And here I am now, a boring old professor trying to reminisce about all those classic days, and the "kids" are mocking me, saying I am too old.
If you ask me, the age they grew up in is a complete waste of time. All they do is sit around on Facebook and get on their X-Box 360 and play “Halo” while having multiple text messaging conversations with their electronic boy/girlfriends.
All of that is too complicated and not as memorable as the age that I grew up in. Maybe I am too old, but who cares? Those were the glory days. A utopian society. The only thing I can do now is just close my eyes and dream about the days when I would lace up my light-up L.A. Gears, pop open a Fruitopia, and get ready to play night games with the rest of the kids on my street. Oh, those were the days...