25. Ah yes, that old classic!

We’ve all been scoffed at once by someone older than us, all because we can’t recognise a song that came out years before we were born. There’s a flush of embarrassment, before leaving the interaction to realise that unless you heard it on the radio in your nan’s car then of course you wouldn’t know that song! On a humane level, we all want to feel a sense of belonging, so tell me why some 56-year-old has to make me feel dumb for not knowing a TOTO song.

Then there are the movies, classics like Scarface, Rocky and Sophie’s Choice, all made two decades before I was born let alone before I could watch them. I will get to them one day, but I know the person scoffing at me for having The Goonies on my watchlist, has to have had identical moments when they were younger. 

The times when I recall the song or movie reference from the 1990s, I feel like a gold star sticker has suddenly appeared on my shirt and sometimes a smug smirk blinks on my face. Perhaps it’s a personal thing, I like the little pat on the head after surprisingly knowing a piece of 80’s trivia.

Yet still, in 23 years I haven’t sufficiently caught up on all the classic albums, movies, Muppets and TV shows of the 30-odd years before I was born and or could consume those mediums of media. How am I supposed to bring a child into this world and expect them to catch up on some of these classics too and more? That is too much pressure for me as a parent and as a human being. 

I don’t want to see my children make a fool of themselves when they ask me if Hall and Oates is a cereal. I also don’t think my child will ever understand the comedic impact “Cheaper By The Dozen” had on my brothers and me, because when my child is old enough to watch it, it will surely be considered a classic. I worry my child won’t appreciate Whitney Houston ballads (that’s a lie, I will never let my child underrate the “Queen of the Night”). Only the other day, I bought the vinyl of The Bodyguard soundtrack, arguably the greatest of all time and was slyly flashing it to passersby who looked like boomers, as if I would get a nod of respect.

Why can’t young people just like old things and not feel judged? Maybe they can, but I’m not one of them. Who am I kidding, if some grumpy 17-year-old in 2045 walks past me in a shopping centre with a Rihanna t-shirt on, you know I’m shooting them a dirty look.