The 80s was a fun time for music. Making a hit didn't require knowing how to play an instrument (though it sometimes helped) but there was so much room on the canvas of pop-culture for originality, freshness, and plain weirdness that just somehow worked.
Although I did not closely follow fashion trends, watch every movie, or even talk valley-girl, the 80s molded my very being. My nightly friend was KPLZ 101.5 FM. BOP and Tiger Beat magazines supplied me with wallpaper adorned with sultry eyes that watched me put on neon pink socks and pour peroxide in my hair. My headphones crooned me to sleep at night with Duran Duran, David Bowie, or Billy Idol cranked up all the way.
However, I have since grown up. 101.5 usually plays unfamiliar stuff. John Taylor's bedroom eyes are no longer in my bedroom. I wear boring socks. Peroxide is used for medical purposes only. My ears stay uncovered in case the kids should need me in the night. But I still have my picture disks!
In spite of my removal from childhood, I still like the music. I have all sorts of bits of 80s music trivia memorized. After listening to a few seconds of an 80s song on an "oldies" station I can usually identify the song and artist. My husband seems impressed with my odd storage of information.
This blog is largely about my fascination with the 80s era, how it affected me, and how my ideas and beliefs evolved. Those who find my posts interesting might still own a picture disk or two themselves.
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