A rose by any other name...
Everything old is new again. However one
might argue rear vision isn't always 20/20.
Fashionistas advise that if one remembers
it... they shouldn't wear it. Sadly the fastest
selling colors for some time have been pale
reminders of times past. As one who lived
through the seventies and the eighties I can
assure you that they were not our chicest of
times. Too much hair, polyester double knits,
and disco nights - to say the least. Recalling
those decades is scary enough. But seeing a
sweet young thing dressed in said era's dusty
rose hue takes me back to a very BAD place.
Hair today, gone tomorrow
Looking back it seems that during those days
everything was faux. From the formica that
covered our kitchens to the shag carpet fibers
that were resistant to everything except dust.
In theory everything was carefree. Thus one
could clean every surface of one's home with
a roll of paper towels and some Formula 409.
Like Teflon - nothing could stick to or stain
our impenetrable wardrobe, home, or office
created from chemical byproducts. However
one has only to think of Farrah Fawcett or any
other of said time's luminaries to realize that
even the people were TOTALLY PLASTIC!
How could anyone have ever considered
hollow core doors, vinyl floors, or "wood"
paneling viable home improvements? Or
deem leisure suits, pirate shirts, or maxis
as more than mod?! More surprising why
did everyone look like they were wearing
wigs?! One has only to take a deep dive
into our hair raising past to realize that
bad taste was all the rage back then. So
why would anyone want to go back?! In
hindsight the final decades of the twentieth
century were our dark ages. Thus the idea
of reviving it's history is in BAD TASTE!
One thing I do miss are land yachts. Years
ago Frank's mother drove the most amazing
golden Cadillac Eldorado. Fully loaded with
hidden headlights, plush velvet seats, and a
rear spare tire bump out. It was like riding
about town in a living room. Once the energy
crisis hit such vehicles became like dinosaurs.
However here in Montana one occasionally
may still encounter an old cowboy riding the
range in one of these golden oldies. Slowly
they cruise downtown looking for a parking
spot as Tammy Wynette warbles on an eight
track. It's like a time machine landed in town!
If everything old is new again I'm scared.
Time may march on but who wants to go
back to the future? Most of what we once
happily tossed in the dumpster is being
recycled. Young people apparently yearn
for the days when Starsky and Hutch were
on primetime. I appreciate a porn stache
and hairy chest as much as you do Yet I
find it odd that the eighties version of Tom
Selleck is once again considered sexy. All
while the actual dyed septuagenarian is
still on the air. How did we ever get stuck
in such a time warp? Beam me up Scotty!
No west young man
Ugly will never be anything but unattractive.
Therefore I hope that any attempt to travel
back in time will continue to be limited to
hues alone. Yet honestly, I'm rather worried.
Recently I got a copy of a Wisteria catalog.
There upon it's cover was an announcement
that "Southwestern" was "new". Which in
theory means that peach, mint green, and
pale aqua can't be far behind. Just as Frank's
father's Assisted Living facility is removing
the last remaining vestiges of said palette
from it's original decor. To replace it with
dated neutrals and country cowboy charm.
Ultimately this too shall pass. All one must do
is wait patiently for what's old to be reinvented
into something new. In truth nothing from the
past ever comes back from the dead exactly as
it once was. However much like any zombie -
some things should remain dead and buried.
An expert tells me that avocado and harvest
gold appliances are "hot." Whereas almond
is not. Soon stainless steel might be obsolete.
Much as granite has been usurped by quartz.
One thing is certain. I'm too old to relive old
tricks. Why can't we let sleeping dogs lie?
Or better yet - put them out of their misery!