I find it positively nutty what is considered “vintage” or “retro” these days… Or, I guess I should say, IS “vintage” or “retro” these days. #gagmewithaspoon Did you know that Etsy considers anything BEFORE 1994 “vintage”? Reeeally?! 1994?! I was just moving out on my own in 1994 — getting my very first apartment off Camino Real, this kitschy, 1950’s Atomic seafoam 1 bedroom that should’ve probably just been advertised as an efficiency. (The walls were pretty much a moot point. ::titter::) But, in 1994, I was already out on my own — just a year shy of not being a teenager anymore — and I just CAN’T bring myself to swallow that jagged pill that those days of yore (that seem like last week to me) are now vintage. #grodytothemax
I will never, ever forget the day I was driving down the interstate, feeling fresh-faced, free, & fierce, when I spotted this billboard… In flashy, spirited, raffish lettering, it said, “Tune in to WKRP in Cincinnati (okay, it obviously didn’t say that, but because I am so vintage, the dementia won’t let me remember what station it was) for some Golden Oldies! Taking your favorite 80s requests from dusk ’til dawn!” ::thud:: Here I was, 32 at the time — my whole new life ahead of me because I was embarking on it as a newly single girl — and I was NOW a “Golden Oldie”??? They might as well have just rocked me like a hurricane to the home for assisted living, right then! I was ready to pack my bags and move in with Dorothy, Rose, Blanche, & Sophia, for pity’s sake. That billboard was like an Ice, Ice pick, Baby, right through my heart. #Slayer (And yes, my puns & play on words do slay me, by the way. It’s a full-blown disorder.)
Nevertheless, we can’t help what is real(ity). Just last month, my Mini Maven pointed to a cassette tape that I found in a treasure trove of memories, and asked, “Mama, what’s that rectangle thing?” Yes, I now come with ancient artifacts. I behold to you my museum pieces. *I* am vintage, so, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my cave to whittle spears with the rest of the Neanderthals. #gnarly
Cutting the comedy, I’ve decided to embrace my vintage vixen! In these modern times, I don’t feel the need to do away with things of the past that gave me great pleasure once before. I still like to watch the too-few episodes of My So Called Life on Hulu, before it so dolefully got tanked for a next season. I still watch at least one John Hughes movie a month. I still bust out Disintegration by The Cure when I need a good cry. And whenever someone stops to ask me what time it is, my first response is: It’s time to get ill! My second is: Hammer time. My third is, “Sorry, but I don’t wear a watch.” (Laughter can so quickly become peevishness. #likewhatever)
I’ve raised my Mini Maven with all of this, as well. She’s been brought up saying “mecca lecca high, mecca hiney ho” instead of abracadabra, lives life by the motto that Goonies never say die!, & has read every Judy Blume & Christopher Pike book I have passed down to her. But I also believe that this generation of children spend too much time playing video games, watching Youtube, and need technological stimulation waaay too much! I like to get her out there… She’s grown up going to classic films on the lawn, climbing trees, hanging out at skate parks, going to festivals & parades, seeing retro musicals at the Old Carolina Theater, spending whole days swimming & hiking at the Eno River, jumping on trampolines, having water ballon fights in the summer, going go cart racing, and…
ROLLER SKATING! #totallytubular
If you ask me, there is nothing more funtastically “retro” or “vintage” than roller skating. Skates can make anyone feel like a carhop. And I absolutely always rent skates when we go. I know the new skates are hi-tech and pimped out for precision, but I like old, musty rental skates. Even when I own my own skates, I buy vintage skates and put sparkly, rainbow laces in them and slap a fuzzy pompom to the toe. Getting on the rink takes me back in time — a GOOD time in my life where I would spend the weekends at the Galaxy, feeling like Olivia Newton John in Xanadu, making Graveyards (or Suicides, depending what rink was *your* rink), seeing how high we could tease our bangs, & meeting up with “fine” boys we were too afraid to talk to, but would still hold their hands to couples skate with. I, also, LOVED to do Skate Art (now called Jamskating or Jamskaters). This is where you dance on skates in the center of the rink (and occasionally lap). We’d dance to sometimes bad/sometimes bad @$$ Miami bass music like Egyptian Lover , Planet Rock & (my personal fav…) Lookout Weekends. I was once a pretty darn good skater (though I did more dancing than breaking tricks, and I never did any flips) — I was a fan of the 5 step! A girlfriend and I used to enter contests and kill it. However, 20 years off skates and it is NOT like riding a bike. My buds all tell me I am still good at skating, but they don’t really have a clue what I *used* be able to do on them. Now I feel like a truck of turnips just overturned in front of me the second I step off the carpet. Either way, when I go skating, I go like I am 12 years old again — my bangs are behemoth, my clothes are brash, & I mix everything from Orange Crush to Dr. Pepper in one great big super-sized Slurpie cup. Skating will work up a thirst & a sweat like Magic Mike (or so I’ve heard… he’s never worked any magic on me, so it’s all my big mystery).
I keep saying that we’re going to keep getting better so Mini Maven & I can do roller derby together when she’s old enough. We could be the Ravin’ Rollers!
Now, as long as I don’t break a hip in the practice process… Must keep taking my Viactiv calcium soft chews!
Keep calm & SHUFFLE on!
~ Angelika Frangelico *Gros bisous*
*** Just a reminder that all of the words that are highlighted in a different color are actual links. You can never be too thorough. This says the layman who still has trouble resetting her digital clock at daylight savings time. Mensa just doesn’t teach the fundamentals anymore!