Thursday, July 17, 2014

I'M NOT THAT OLD

     There’s a famous quote that states “those who forget history are terrible people who probably kick puppies”. I’m paraphrasing a bit, but it’s something like that.
     My mother was from Scotland, which meant we often had visitors from the other side of the Atlantic; a welcomed aspect once I was into my teenage years and my mother’s friend brought her teenage daughter and her daughter’s best friend along.
     I’ll skip the boring parts of this particular visit: the cuddling, steamy make-out sessions, the three day crack-binge, and late night flight to Vegas for an alcohol fueled marriage.
     One night, my very fragile teen comfort zone was shattered by the “sweet” sounds of Scottish folk music; though I’m still convinced it was just polka. Normally, I would have been appalled and embarrassed (still was), but something even more bizarre was about to occur. My mother and her friend began to dance—or at least that’s what they called their unholy gyrations—and my new Scottish, teenage friends joined them. This blew my mind. These two girls, who were at least twenty years younger than my mother and her friend, willingly joined two middle aged women dancing to Scottish polka music (it also blew my mind a bit that I found them no less attractive after this). It really impressed me how these girls were so aware of their own cultural heritage, no matter how old.
     Fast-forward fifteen years later to a conversation I had with a co-worker. I was floored to learn she had no idea who Laurel and Hardy were. Worse than that, when asked who Charlie Chaplin was, she asked if he was a singer. Charlie Chaplin. The first real movie star in the world and this girl had no idea who he was. When disbelief overwhelmed my face she defended herself by saying she wasn't born back then. Apparently I look eighty years old to her (I’m only in my late twenties at the time of this conversation, but who knows, maybe I look reeeeaaaally old for my age). The conversation only went downhill when Johnny Carson’s name was met with a blank stare.
     I understand the average American knows very little of our own history and most would fail a citizenship test, but in a country obsessed with celebrity you’d think we would at least be more aware of our cultural heritage.
     My father was a bit older than your average dad when I was born, but I can’t say that made me much more aware of older entertainers than anyone else. Aside from Jack Benny, I became familiar with older movie stars all on my own, so here’s my best explanation: The internet didn’t explode until I was in my early twenties, which would have made this girl in her teen years at the time. When she was growing up, the internet was making the television obsolete. She never had to suffer through those awful Sundays when there were no TV shows for a younger age group so you had to settle for watching whatever was on, which usually consisted of movies and shows made long before I was born. At least on Saturdays we had Kung Fu Theater and the occasional monster movie.
     So here’s the plan I came up with to break this trend. I must destroy the internet. Don’t try to stop me. I know this is going to be rough on all of us for a little while. Even I have grown to love Twitter and Youtube, but it needs to be done for the sake of our cultural identity.
     If you’re really against this I do have a backup plan. Strap your kids to their desk chairs. This won’t be hard. They probably won’t know what you’re doing until it’s too late because they’re no doubt too interested in their Facebook feed to notice. Once they’re secure, roll them a few feet away so they can’t touch the keyboard or power buttons. Now go to Youtube and find some old television. Show them Johnny Carson. Show them Jack Benny and The Little Rascals. Show them The Rat Pack and Monty Python and Peter Sellers. Feeling particularly vindictive? Treat them to a marathon of 80’s music videos (I suggest Mick Jagger and David Bowie’s Dancing in the Streets).
     Whatever you do, however you choose to do it, take some time to show your kids where we came from. Show them there’s value in what came before. Most importantly, show them we’re better than those sheep-herding, haggis eaters (sorry, Mom)!


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