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--------------------------- Original Message ---------------------------        
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>                                                                               
>                          Don't call me "Generation X,"                        
>                         call me a child of the eighties                       
>                                                                               
>                                by Bryant Adkins                               
>                           published in The Reflector                          
>                                January 20, 1995                               
>                                                                               
>                                                                               
> ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>                                                                               
> I am a child of the eighties. That is what I prefer to be called. The         
> nineties can do without me. Grunge isn't here to stay, fashion is             
> fickle and "Generation X" is a myth created by some over-40 writer            
> trying to figure out why people wear flannel in the summer. When I got        
> home from school, I played with my Atari 2600. I spent hours playing          
> Pitfall or Combat or Breakout or Dodge'em Cars or Frogger. I never did        
> beat Asteroids. Then I watched "Scooby Doo." Daphne was a Goddess, and I      
> thought Shaggy was smoking something synthetic in the back of their           
> psychedelic van. I hated Scrappy.                                             
>                                                                               
> I would sleep over at friends' houses on the weekends. We played army         
> with G.I. Joe figures, and I set up galactic wars between Autobots and        
> Decepticons. We stayed up half the night throwing marshmallows and            
> Velveeta at one another. We never beat the Rubik's Cube.                      
>                                                                               
> I got up on Saturday mornings at 6 a.m. to watch bad Hanna-Barbera            
> cartoons like "The Snorks," "Jabberjaw," "Captain Caveman," and "Space        
> Ghost." In between I would watch "School House Rock." ("Conjunction           
> junction, what's your function?")                                             
>                                                                               
> On weeknights Daisy Duke was my future wife. I was going to own the           
> General Lee and shoot dynamite arrows out the back. Why did they weld         
> the doors shut? At the movies the Nerds got Revenge on the Alpha Betas        
> by teaming up with the Omega Mus. I watched Indiana Jones save the Ark        
> of the Covenant, and wondered what Yoda meant when he said, "No, there        
> is another."                                                                  
>                                                                               
> Ronald Reagan was cool. Gorbachev was the guy who built a McDonalds in        
> Moscow. My family took summer vacations to the Gulf of Mexico and             
> collected "Muppet Movie" glasses along the way. (We had the whole set.)       
> My brother and I fought in the back seat. At the hotel we found creative      
> uses for Connect Four pieces like throwing them in that big air               
> conditioning unit.                                                            
>                                                                               
> I listened to John COUGAR Mellencamp sing about Little Pink Houses for        
> Jack and Diane. I was bewildered by Boy George and the colors of his          
> dreams, red, gold, and green. MTV played videos. Nickelodeon played "You      
> Can't Do That on Television" and "Dangermouse." Cor! HBO showed Mike          
> Tyson pummel everybody except Robin Givens, the bad actress from "Head        
> of the Class" who took all Mike's cashflow.                                   
>                                                                               
> I drank Dr. Pepper. "I'm a Pepper, you're a Pepper, wouldn't you like         
> to be a Pepper, too?" Shasta was for losers. TAB was a laboratory             
> accident. Capri Sun was a social statement. Orange juice wasn't just for      
> breakfast anymore, and bacon had to move over for something meatier.          
>                                                                               
> My mom put a thousand Little Debbie Snack Cakes in my Charlie Brown           
> lunch box, and filled my Snoopy Thermos with grape Kool-Aid. I would          
> never eat the snack cakes, though. Did anyone? I got two thousand cheese      
> and cracker snack packs, and I ate those.                                     
>                                                                               
> I went to school and had recess. I went to the same classes everyday.         
> Some weird guy from the eighth grade always won the science fair with         
> the working hydro-electric plant that leaked on my project about music        
> and plants. They just loved Beethoven.                                        
>                                                                               
> Field day was bigger than Christmas, but it always managed to rain            
> just enough to make everybody miserable before they fell over in the          
> three-legged race. Where did all those panty hose come from? "Deck the        
> Halls with Gasoline, fa la la la la la la la la," was just a song.            
> Burping was cool. Rubber band fights were cooler. A substitute teacher        
> was a baby sitter/marked woman. Nobody deserved that.                         
>                                                                               
> I went to Cub Scouts. I got my arrow-of-light, but never managed to           
> win the Pinewood Derby. I got almost every skill award but don't              
> remember ever doing anything.                                                 
>                                                                               
> The world stopped when the Challenger exploded.                               
>                                                                               
> Did a teacher come in and tell your class?                                    
>                                                                               
> Half of your friends' parents got divorced.                                   
>                                                                               
> People did not just say no to drugs.                                          
>                                                                               
> AIDS started, but you knew more people who had a grandparent die from         
> cancer.                                                                       
>                                                                               
> Somebody in your school died before they graduated.                           
>                                                                               
> When you put all this stuff together, you have my childhood. If this          
> stuff sounds familiar, then I bet you are one, too.                           
>                                                                               
> We are children of the eighties. That is what I prefer "they" call it.        
>                                                                               
>                                                                               
>                                                                               
>                                                                               
>                                                                               
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