SOME things age like milk and others like a decent drop of red.
Let’s talk popular culture in the 1970s.
In 1978, Olivia Newton-John’s Sandy was every man’s dream girl while bad boy Danny, played by John Travolta, had women swooning.
The Pink Ladies were the cool kids who turned Sandy into a rebel.
I watched ‘Grease’ for the first time as a teenager in the mid 80s because my parents deemed it far too raunchy when it first came out.
It’s all a bit farcical now though, isn’t it?
The Pink Ladies weren’t teens at all but actors in their 20s and 30s.
The late Olivia was 29 when she played Sandy.
Today’s youngsters who think teenagers 40 years ago had no game, need to look back at popular culture.
The movie ‘The Breakfast Club’ in 1985 was a cult hit and something that defined a generation.
Those actors were also older than the roles they played.
Most were in their mid 20s, only two were 17.
There is a meme that pops up on social media from time to time, it’s a photo of the five Breakfast Club cast members with the line, ‘The only generation that looked 30 at 20 and 30 at 50’.
It’s true.
Look at the photo of five sulky 80s kids in the movie’s promo photos and there’s no way they pass for teenagers of 16 or 17, even the ones who were 17.
Not in today’s world anyway.
In the ‘milk section’ is aerobics and movies like ‘Perfect’ starring John Travolta and Jamie Lee Curtis.
Is it just me who gets the ‘ick ‘watching clips where gym bunnies in tight leotards thrust to music while maintaining eye contact with another person?
In the late 60s early 70s, aerobics rose in popularity as people latched onto fitness through repetitive dance moves.
By the early 80s, gym fashion was a big deal.
Women wore leotards over leggings, hiking the sides as high above the hips as possible.
Men wore short shorts and singlets.
Headbands and leg warmers were styled to match an outfit.
It was a vibe, a trend, a thing that everyone did even if some of it made little sense.
Headband I get, the forehead sweats and this stops it from running into the eyes.
Leg warmers? I’m not sure what’s sweating there and don’t want to know.
Then there’s the good stuff, the things that give us hope of aging like red wine.
I met up with a friend the other day, he was planting saplings in a park behind a School of Arts hall.
I remarked how the trees would provide decent shade for the area in 20 years time.
I said I’d return to tell people I was there when they were planted.
“Well, I won’t be here, I’ll be long gone,” he laughed.
I replied that I was in my mid 50s so maybe I was being somewhat hopeful, too.
He recently turned 72 but is still active and working.
“If I stop moving, I’ll get old,” he said, as we spoke about age and how ‘old’ changes as we grow.
Then there was a pause as we realised if we had the same conversation 50 years ago, we’d both be old.
Well, one of us would be ancient and it wasn’t me.
In the 1960s and 1970s, dying at 72 would be considered a good innings.
During the same decades, a 53-year-old woman would probably be a grandmother, presenting to society with a matronly image.
We are all aging like good wine nowadays and it’s hard to figure out how old someone is.
So, let’s forget about numbers and enjoy each day as it is.
Like a good wine, life is best lived out of the cellar and if you don’t live while you’re alive, you are better off dead.
