Y2K comes and goes, but the '80s still rock

From Ariel Horn's, "Candy from a Stranger," Fall '00 From Ariel Horn's, "Candy from a Stranger," Fall '00As the ball fell this past New Year's Eve, I faced utter devastation at the realization that no cows had hurled themselves over the white cliffs of Dover. But as I watched CNN cover New Year's across the globe, my heart sank like Tony Danza's ill-fated career. Indeed, it was a sorry, sorry day in Ariel Horn's history. While the rest of the world rejoiced at the smoothness of New Year's celebrations in every time zone, to my utmost horror, the worst had happened in that nothing had happened at all. Nary a cow threw itself off the cliffs of Dover. The maniacal sounds of frenzied mooing I had yearned for for months never reached me. Apocalypse Cow never happened. I felt myself longing for the appalling entertainment and fashion mistakes of the 1980s and '90s. I sunk down in my depressed post-New Year funk and thought wistfully of the two decades behind us. Visions of Gary Coleman danced in my head like sugarplum fairies. And that's when it hit me, with the force of a large deer hitting the windshield of a pickup truck in Maine. The '90s were over. The '80s were more than 10 years ago. My childhood had slipped through my fingers like the slap bracelet my fifth-grade teacher had ruthlessly confiscated from me a decade ago. I never got that back either. Suddenly, my future flashed before my eyes in a Wonder Years-style dream montage. Before I knew it, I would be driving a maroon minivan through New Jersey suburbia, taking my kids to after-school activities while switching on the "oldies" station to maintain my sanity after having subjected myself to hours of 2015's answer to Raffi. Songs by Cyndi Lauper, MC Hammer and Wham! would be my only saviors. Just as I had once mocked my parents' generation for listening to "Runaround Sue" and "My Girl" on Oldies 103.3 in New Jersey, soon I too would be the subject of mockery among the unborn Generation Z, those heartless spoiled children raised on organically grown vegetables and zinc-enhanced cold relief products. With the year 2000's lack of holy wars and terrorist attacks and suicidal cows, I was forced to reflect on my past. What will our children mock us about in the future? What typifies the '80s is easy. Pictures of 14-year-old girls with feathered bangs, big hair and leg-warmers reading Sweet Valley High and The Babysitter's Club. Alyssa Milano-wannabes. The Cosby Show. Degrassi Junior High. The word "rad." Iran. Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Kirk Cameron. The typology of the 1990s is more difficult and certainly much more shameful. The list that surfaced in my consisted more clearly of things that should be left in the '90s, buried in years of embarrassment, never to surface again: Hideously ugly baggy plaid pants called "Skidz." Saved by the Bell. Making fun of the episode of Saved by the Bell in which Jessie Spano overdoses on caffeine pills to study for her geometry final. Olestra. Alyssa Milano pinups. Farlow jeans. Hypercolor. The phrase, "NOT!" Political correctness. Macaulay Culkin and his little wife, too. PokZmon. "Phat." Starbucks. Matthew Broderick and his inexcusable performance in Inspector Gadget. Overblown animated feature films by Disney. Hanson. And then, there is the saddest item of all: those who have forever tormented our lives through Full House, their inexplicable and irritating pronunciation of "ice cream"as "ous-cream" and their horrid new show, Two of a Kind. Now we watch as the Olsen twins break their way into the year 2000 to wreak havoc on yet another decade. God help us all. Thankfully, 10 years from now when we look back on the decade beginning with the year 2000, named "the Aughts," we will hopefully remember what we ought not to do. Avoid watching the Olsen twins show lest they make their way into double-decade history. Try to choose less embarrassing fashions. Stop talking about Jessie Spano overdosing on caffeine pills. Though no one knows what the decade to come may bring, how many cows will act as lemmings or whom the future decade's version of Raffi will be, there is one thing that will always bridge generational gaps, however wide, and steadfastly hold cultural America together: Cher.