I remember being amazed by the oldies station as a kid. Such great tunes filled the airwaves. But the songs also seemed so ancient, like they were from a completely different world.
We drove past a vintage car the other day. My 10-year-old said, “Oh man, I bet that’s from the mid-1980s!” I quickly educated him by explaining that the vehicle was likely 30 years older than that, probably from the 50s. “The 80s aren’t quite vintage,” I told him. “Besides, your dad was born in the mid-80s!”
I don’t think that got my point across all that well.
Looking back, the music on the oldies station when I was my son’s age was from the 60s and 70s. The music from my childhood must seem just as ancient to my son today. The same amount of time separates him from my 80s and 90s childhood heyday. It’s hard for me to fathom that Ice Ice Baby could be considered “one of the classics.”
Time is an odd thing. When you’re young, you spend so much time wanting to get somewhere in the future. You rush off to the next stage of life. You want the newest stuff or the next big thing. As you get older, you find yourself nostalgic for simpler times. You know, the good ol’ days.
Maybe you wouldn’t choose to go back, but it is nice to rewind the clock now and then by listening to one of the classics.