One thing led to another and I found myself on YouTube, watching old music videos from the 80s and 90s. It was surprisingly fun: the quaint plotlines, the campy acting, the decent cinematography. For example, watching the bearded, burly members of ZZ Top come to the rescue of a geeky young beauty in Legs. But they come as ghosts, flickering in and out, as if the tooth fairy dressed up like beaming Hell’s Angels with a wholesome message:
And then there is Cyndi Lauper, all dolled up and lovingly giving her parents a hard time in Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. She raises girly squeaks and eye-rolls to an adorable art form:
Or what about Michael Jackson in Beat It? He’s so young and un-freaky looking as he urges his peers to all get along–while showcasing his double-jointed dance moves. I especially love the guys climbing out of the manhole. No wait; I love the whole thing: the cafe, the smoky streets, the choreographed dance scene.
I don’t think of the 80s and 90s as an innocent time, but there’s a sweetness in these videos that I wasn’t expecting to find. Maybe it’s just the flavor of nostalgia; but I think there’s more to it than that. We’re in a time of such rapid change that living memory is, in some ways, also the distant past. For those of us who were alive then, these videos conjure up the expanding distance between that world and this one–and for a moment, make the gap a little smaller.

