Back to the Future

It isn’t 1989 anymore.

“You know, you used to look like Madonna. Now? You look like Hannah Montana.”

This was my old high school boyfriend’s observation of my aging process when he friended me on Facebook after not seeing my face in over 20 years. (Apparently one set of blonde hair extensions later and I’m Miley Cyrus.)

I squint at the screen, assess his crow’s feet and thinning hair and refrain from typing back, “Yeah, well, you used to look like Rob Lowe. Now? I can’t even make a celebrity comparison.”

I’m not really sure where my youth went or that I ever want it back. For one, every woman who survived high school in the 1980’s looks better now than back when her dry permed disaster of a hairstyle was big enough to have its own zip code. And thanks to Brook Shields, who is the only woman on earth who looks good with bushy eyebrows, the rest of us only ended up looking like Bert without Ernie.

Era of bad fads and fashions aside, I’m also happy it’s not the 80’s anymore because now I’m a grown up. I know things.

At least I like to think I do.

This week I had to fly to Tampa for work and coincidentally, one of my best friends from high school lives in the area. We connected on Facebook (she used to look like a Poison rocker chick. Now? She’s a funky taller version of Reese Witherspoon) and decided to catch up while I was in town.

Her name is Kaylee and I would have died without her my freshman and sophomore years of high school. We lived, literally, in the The Middle of Nowhere, USA. Our only proof there was a world outside of our rural hostage situation was Mtv’s Top Ten Video Countdown, our after school salvation. Oh, and the 1980’s version of American Bandstand: Dance Party USA. Kelly Rippa actually got her start there, back in 1988 when her hair, and ass, were a lot bigger. (Seriously, she was a chubber. Believe it)

Kaylee was a year older than me in high school and I literally hadn’t seen her since she graduated in 1989. So when her shiny sporty car pulled up to my hotel on Sunday, I chuckled to myself as I remembered the numerous times she used to pick me up on a Saturday night back in high school. Once in a while, her sister would even let her drive her maroon Firebird. We’d crank up a little Poison and fly down the country highway to the next town where we’d cruise main for hours and try to lure cute boys into our orbit with our seductive mall bang frizz and come hither uni-brows.

Now, it’s twenty one years later and our reunion is one of hugs, laughter, and a lot better hair.

“I made a cd to commemorate the day!” Kaylee announces. She tosses me the case and I giggle as I read the list of songs: ACDC, Poison, and a little Beastie Boys.

Sunroof open and Brett Michaels blaring, the years between then and now fly into the happy Florida sunshine.

We chat effortless and catch up on each other’s families and careers. She is fascinated by my divorce. I am in awe of her marriage. We gossip about old friends, take pictures in the Gulf Coast surf and drink cocktails in the sunshine.

And all the while, I feel my soul recognize its place next to my old/new friend.

“Remember that Bon Jovi poster you had?”

“Sure do. I kissed it every night to the point my spit started warping his face.”

“Hey, didn't we make up actions to this Beastie Boys song?”

“We did! I completely forgot about that!”

"And guess what? I think I remember them!"

“I can’t believe how boy crazy we were.”

“Hey, I’m still boy crazy.”

“Ya think?!!?"

Time has marched on, shook us up, and spit us out in different places with different lives. But it has not robbed us of our memories of one another.

My afternoon with Kaylee was a trip.

Literally.

Because for one day in the sun?

It was 1989 again.
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Thanks for the time traveling, "Kaylee." Miss you already! Let's not wait another 20 years to see each other. If we do? I'll be pushing 60 . . . and by then? Yeah, well, I can't guarantee that the uni-brow won't make a come back . . .

1985 ~ Bowling for Soup

She’s seen all the classics
She knows every line
Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink
Even Saint Elmo’s Fire
She rocked out to Wham
Not a big Limp Bizkit fan
Thought she’d get a hand
On a member of Duran Duran

Where’s the mini-skirt made of snake skin
And who’s the other guy that's singing in Van Halen
When did reality become T.V.
Whatever happened to sitcoms, game shows
(on the radio was)

Springsteen, Madonna
Way before Nirvana
There was U2 and Blondie
And music still on MTV
Her two kids in high school
They tell her that she’s uncool
Cause she's still preoccupied
With 19, 19, 1985

She hates time make it stop
When did Motley Crue become classic rock?
And when did Ozzy become an actor?
Please make this stop
Stop!
And bring back

Springsteen, Madonna
Way before Nirvana
There was U2 and Blondie
And music still on MTV
Her two kids in high school
They tell her that she’s uncool
Cause she's still preoccupied
With 1985