Give us Pony Boy and Duckie, you can keep Blane  

Ahhhh the 80s! Can we discuss this decade for a bit?

I was born in 1970, nourished on Gen X formula, not by choice but by fate.

In fairness, the 80s had its high points – masterful mullets, Nancy’s war on drugs, fanny packs, inane movies, wonderfully cheesy music, cringe-worthy fashion, and of course the mixed tape.

Everyone seems to be obsessed with the 80s. However, we now bear witness to the lack of feeding off a purer teat.

During the 1960s, here in the states, we had the means to break free; yet we opted for superficial revolution. As a society and a world power we thrill-sought our way through the 70s, and thanks to the rather selfish, Baby Boomers – plundering the economy, funding two wars with deficits, disputing obvious climate change issues, and leaving future generations to tidy up – we found ourselves on the doorstep of 1980.

And who walked through – good old Ronnie, the former actor/governor of Cal-i-forn-ia. This stellar commander-in-chief’s hitlist included: supplying weapons to America’s enemies; supporting racist-apartheid South Africa; the complete disregarding of the AIDS epidemic; and borrowing hundreds of billions of dollars from the Social Security Trust Fund.

Honestly, I was a fan of the 80s. The recent pop culture consumption of this decades’ offerings has proven peoples’ passion for the time period and its epoch of excess is here to stay. Characterized by extravagance and technological innovation helped the 80s maintain its relevance. MTV revolutionized the music industry by reaching the homes of millions of viewers. Pac Man and larger-than-life personalities kept us all wanting more.

The downside of our glamorization of this era is we do not accurately address the need for empathy to create sustaining art – the element that connects virtuosity and the viewer.

This is not to say only the 80s are to blame for the erosion of quality within art. Though, it is safe to state that the synthetic, soulless, over-indulgent crap produced during this decade in many mediums – like film, music, television, photography, poetry, etc. – did pave the way for laziness, in lieu of excellence.

The 80s are what started this momentum of mediocrity. The beginning of why recent generations are fearful of discomfort and discipline.

A recent streaming service offering called “Brats” illustrates this point rather well. This is referred to as a documentary, which is like calling Kajagoogoo a band.

During the better part of 90 minutes, we follow around the whiny Andrew McCarthy, a 1980s force in such cinematic masterpieces as Mannequin, Kansas, and Fresh Horses. Andrew attempts to garner sympathy from fellow 80s icons regarding how an article which coined the phrase “Brat Pack,” stigmatized his career. At times, it appears the other participants of this show, find it difficult to keep a straight face, as Andrew pleads for anyone to give this insane notion some merit.

The point – this kind of self-serving weasel is what emerged unscathed from the decade of decadence. McCarthy was raised in the affluent town of Westfield, NJ. He attended The Pingry School, (tuition is close to $50k/yearly) and went on to enroll in NYU before being expelled due to poor grades. He experienced enormous success throughout the eighties.

To watch him attempt to capitalize on the resurgence of the popularity of this decade is comprehensible and anticipated. No one wants to begrudge him the success he earned. But I tend to lean toward the theory that lousy choices, poor scripts, and the inability to act probably had more to do with his career derailing.

Let’s celebrate the 80s for what they were – Dallas ‘doing it for Johnny’, parachute pants, towering hair, and Roadhouse – however, let us not permit the present fashionable nostalgia to rewrite its history. Remember, it is not too late to change the course of consumerism and riskless art that time period plunged into us.

It may have been coated with sugary goodness, but in the end the 1980s left us calorically devoid of any useful nutrients.

DID YOU KNOW? The rumor, (started by me), that Martin Scorsese is going to call Steven Spielberg to ask Andrew McCarthy to be in “St. Elmo’s Fire Part Deux, Revenge of the Pack,” is probably false. However, Andy – you may want to click over if your call waiting beeps when you are on the phone with Howard the Duck.

1 thought on “Give us Pony Boy and Duckie, you can keep Blane  ”

  1. Elisabeth Muro

    enjoyed your honest comments and conclusions of a decade that could as so many before had a more positive effect future ones thank you

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