I’ve been thinking a lot about life in America these days, as it seems to become more arduous by the day. What with the ridiculousness in DC, the absence of empathy that has morphed into a celebration of nastiness online, and the general grey overhang of worry that is in the air, I find myself daydreaming back to the 80s. In the moment, I didn’t really like the 80s, especially the early years, as I was mired in my teenage angst. However, given what I now know, I long for the 80s like nobody’s business. Something I thought I would never do. Oh, to be back in 1984 again! Listening to Duran Duran and driving around aimlessly with my friends in my Mom’s red Chevy Malibu Classic. Inexplicably the windows only went down half way (remember that phase?!) but who cares! I was young and I was free, even if I didn’t feel free at the time. I’m not sure if I have a case of rose tinted sentimentality but it just seemed different then. Better. More possible. More allowable. More cordial. Less mean. I have the feeling that the varnish of civility is wearing thin, eroding every day and soon it will be dull, inconsequential and forgotten.