Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Watched an eighties music programme on telly and it got us reminiscing about our teenage years. The daft fashions, the mad music and the fact that every ones heads must have been a fire hazard as they were always caked with hairspray.  I will never forget Boy George's first appearance on 'Top of the Pops'. It took the full thirty minutes for us to decide whether he was male or female. The look on my Dad's face was a picture. Our teenage idols were an interesting bunch, my sister had Boy George and Morton Harket on her walls. Morton was a bit of alright. Then there was Simon Le Bon or John Taylor or the king of cool himself - Paul Weller. I had Jim Kerr in a moody black and white shot with a dove in his hands on my wall and a Simple Minds t-shirt that was worn until it could just about walk itself.  Oh and Bros. So bad there was actually something likeable about them. After my sister ditched A-Ha I had them to contend with. Tripping over her bottle topped shoes and all.  I hated being a teenager. Too young to be taken seriously but too old to misbehave. It was probably my least favorite decade but as soon as I hear the music the good times come back. Karma Chameleon anyone?

On the subject of teenagers, our company on Saturday night mainly consisted of long suffering parents of teenage kids. I  like teenagers. I enjoy their company and am beginning to wonder if it is because I have not mentally progressed any further than them. I always get a laugh with them.  Come to think of it they are probably not laughing with me but at me and thinking what a silly old cow. After all when you are a teenager anybody over twenty five is ancient.  I love the moody, couldn't give a toss lads whose only means of communication is a grunt, and the appearance obsessed girls with their thing for wearing fake flowers in the hair at the moment (teen fashion - don't ya just love it) and the ability to make themselves look about ten years older. The four couples we were with have kids ranging from thirteen right up to twenty one. We have known the kids for years and it has been amazing watching them grow up. The stories we heard would have made you cringe. One lad had asked his mum to buy him condoms 'just incase'. Changed days. My mother would have had fit with her leg up and dragged me off to the local blacksmith to have a chastity belt made. I wish mine would stay nine and six. I don't think I am ready for them to be more grown up than me.
 
In all honesty the reason we worry about teens is because they make you remember all the dodges you got up to yourself. It's no darned wonder we don't trust them.....


Today's million dollar question: How as teenagers were we oblivious to the fact that George Michael was gay? Just watched an old repeat of him mincing about to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go'. More camp than the Bangkok Lady Boys at a Liberace concert and yet everybody lusted after him like poodles on heat. Must have been the hormones.......or were we just plain daft?