Icons of my youth.
Slate would call me Gen-X.
– Listening to "One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch girl" on my
fluorescent orange and pink radio as I sat on the bus from North Carolina
to Massachusetts when I was 7.
– My older brother spending hours and hours in front of the bathroom
mirror, blow dryer in hand, to get that perfect feathered "Farrah Fawcett"
hairdo. Now it sounds a bit. . . hmm, odd perhaps. But it as the 70s and it
was a fantastic look for him.
– Julie in Denver introducing me to "Off the Wall" – wow, little
Michael Jackson grew up!
– Doing door security duty in Brussels in the summer of '83 with my
little boombox and my "Thriller" tape. As people returned from the local
pub, we had our own disco right there in the lobby.
– It took me many, many "rave" type dances to learn how to dance to
this newfangled electronic music. The whole time I was just wishing and
wishing someone would slap on some Michael Jackson so I could *really*
I could literally trace the first 25-30 years of my life to a Michael