Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Gotta' Love The 80s

I am a child of the 80s. What a whacked out decade that was. For two thirds of it I was at school. This in no way implies that I was either given or actively seeking an education, but that's for another blog. My memories of this decade are a bit shallow, mostly movies and music, and vague notions of the fashion of the time.
Leggings. I mean WTF? Who's idea was that? And Flashdance wasn't even that good even if the song was catchy. Talking of movies, what about The Empire Strikes Back, ET, Raiders Of The Lost Ark, Terminator, Back To Future? Not to forget the thousands of low budget flicks that came out of LA. Special mention must also go to Don Johnson for giving the world the fashion of white canvas shoes with no socks, surely the most nonce worthy idea since they reduced the size of Wagon Wheels. And then there's the music, which to this day makes me laugh. Remember the rock groups? Whitesnake, Bon Jovi. Not entirely sure how you claim to be a tough guy when you have hair that would put Tina Turner to shame? And those trousers, the spray on leathers. I'd be surprised if any of those dudes fathered children having crushed their testicles quite so spectacularly. At least it would explain how they hit the high notes.
I left school in 1987, going to work with my Dad as a painter and decorator. We had the radio on most days, with Gary Davies, Simon Bates, and Steve Wright reigning supreme. Radio One was number one rather than just one of the pack, and the airwaves were filled with Soul To Soul, The Communards, Erasure, and The Pet Shop Boys. Mobile phones were just entering our consciousness, brick sized monsters with aerials like the antenna on Dodgem cars. Thatcher was creating an "Can Do" mentality, and Tory Ministers were having sex scandals as only they know how. I seem to recall spending most Friday and Saturday nights sloshed, and I often ended up in very obscure locations. Once I happened across a Scottish Kayleigh in the middle of the Buckinghamshire countryside, whilst I also snuck into a hippie commune on another occasion. And I wouldn't recommend climbing a 70ft floodlight during the early hours; probably one of my more stupid forays. I remember the girls I had crushes on; they were the same ones that didn't find me the least bit attractive, which was frankly a downer. I don't actually think I had a girlfriend I really fancied until the early 90s, but I do recall a few worthwhile snogs along the way.
I remember the George in Winslow, and Kebab shops in Aylesbury that never seemed to close. I recall a week at Butlins in Minehead with the lads, and being told that if you can't pull in a place like this you never will.
I never pulled. I did however manage to take a joy ride into a shallow lake inside a shopping trolley, for which I earned myself a few stitches and a scar on my hand.
Its all a bit of a blur. I expect I enjoyed it at the time. 

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