Do any of you ever wish you could crawl back into the 90s again? Or is it just me and Fratguy? We were poor for most of the ’90s–and when we were no longer poor, I had a bad job, but we always had very good friends and neighbors wherever we were–Philadelphia, Baltimore, Hartford, Somerville/Cambridge, Washington D.C., Providence, R.I., and “Winesburg,” Ohio. I’m probably just nostalgic for the first decade of adulthood, when the possibilities seemed endless. (I will say that it’s nice not to have moved at all for 8 years in a row! It seems like I spent half of my 20s in a U-Haul, driving up and down I-95 and figuring out how to avoid the New Jersey Turnpike.)
(Aside: Does anyone know if there have been any articles or dissertations written about all of the babies, baby dolls, fetuses, and allusions to reproduction that populate both Nirvana and Hole songs and videos? Does anyone want to offer an analysis in the comments below?)
Although this video of “Malibu” might suggest that we’re going to the beach for Spring Break, we’re not. More details later–but I think I’m going to stay off-line and just live in the meat world on my vacation.
Here’s some flava of the 1970s for you, too: “put down the cigarette, and drop out of B.U.!”
And, of course, we have a classic from the 1980s, shot at Eastern State Penitentary in Philadelphia. Panopticontastic!