By Randi Mack
It wasn’t that long ago. You stared emotionless at Lady Gaga’s new hit, her 10 feet stilettos piercing the hearts of millions, and you realize, this isn’t the 90’s. It was the same feeling you got when your mother threw away her Rolodex and placed a cellphone in your hands. But the more you try to remember the 90’s the more you remember the remembering.
Remember when we used to remember toe socks? Boy, remembering that was rad. Knowing that you once owned them (maybe…or was it a dream?) and that they probably had stripes—it felt like it might have been simpler times. Remember that memory in 2014, when you momentarily forgot about walkie talkies existing? You probably had one as a kid, bothering police officers or something on the same line. You sometimes pressed the button and played a song and pretended you had your own radio station. Or maybe that was a book you read. Either way, the world was small then.
There was a time before when you recalled all the shows you used to watch, and they were good. They bathed in slime and told ghost stories, or maybe that was a summer camp you went to. You’re sure though that there were children, young ones who talked to each other and went on adventures. Things were better then, and sort of the same.
Remember once back in the 90’s when you first learned about records and typewriters? You got nauseous because that was so long ago you couldn’t fathom it. Your grandma told you she couldn’t even remember all of her teacher’s names and even some of her friends. This was not acceptable to you. Even then, you knew this time was good. Wouldn’t not remembering be akin to forgetting yourself? You make it your mission then, to keep that time from escaping you.
Things weren’t documented the same then, and even the old videos have static. You aren’t sure you have the details right, and maybe the specifics don’t matter too much, because you remember the remembering. And the remembering feels so good.
