"marvellous sweet music!" the tempest: iii, iii

I'm not going to be shy about admitting that I am a child of the 80s. I was born in the late 70s and my predominant childhood memories are all in the 80s. Since I wasn't a teenager in the 80s, my perception of being a teenager in the 80s was shaped by the movies and music and television that was all around me. My babysitters all watched MTV - yes, we were able to be transfixed even though "all they did" was play music videos. By the time the 90s had rolled around, I was already well into the world-weary preteen years, already looking back at what I thought was my wasted childhood and my inability to return to those halcyon days. The 80s were a simpler time, a time when technology still seemed to hold the keys to the future, when we could still say "cool!" when we saw a computer in someone's house, but it was the turning point, too, a time when somehow there was a balance between naive wonder at the world before us as well as a new understanding of the problems of our world, and how we as a generation would have to face them, and use the new tools at our disposal to try and make the world a better place. Even though every generation says this, it was a unique time that shaped my view of the world today.

(Oh, a side note before I continue. To the very sweet, very friendly, very young people that I seem to encounter a lot lately as the new school year gets in full swing: You are adorable. You are fresh-faced and naive, and your determination and upbeat attitude is refreshing to me. My only advice to you in dealing with folks of "my generation" -- who, let's face it, are really only about 8 to 12 years older than you -- is this. If you're going to ask my age, that's fine, I will answer gladly; I'm not one of those women who won't reveal her age. But when I reply gamely "Twenty-nine," try to avoid widening your eyes and saying "Wow!" It tends to be off-putting. And the half-hearted follow up of "you don't look twenty-nine" barely covers things. Just letting you know.)

Well, back to my original point. I'm a child of the 80s, and my perception of life has been shaped by that fact. So, it is with a little trepidation and a fair amount of embarrassment that I admit the following fact about myself: I often think in music montages. That's right, you know those scenes popularized in the teen flicks of the 80s where, to get the point across of some kind of dynamic action taking place over the course of time, the only sound is a catchy song with lyrics that barely tie into the plot and the scenes show the progression of action happening quickly so we can get to the happy denoument. Well. Sometimes - ok, a lot of times, and it happens even more now that I have an iPod - I'll be doing a very normal, everyday thing, such as laundry, and I'll imagine it all going down as a musical montage. As I pull up to the laundromat, the opening riff of Adam Ant's "Goody Two Shoes" will play in my head, and every mundane action as I do my wash will appear in my head as a cut shot in a montage set to that song. It's .... well, let's face it, it's a little pathetic.

The culprit for this disorder is one of two movies:

The Breakfast Club, "We Are Not Alone" (Karla DeVito). This one was key because it was about teens and high school, and I was very influenced by anything I thought older kids were doing. At first glance, this scene doesn't seem quite so much a montage as it is just a crappy dance scene, but it skyrockets into montage range when they do the cuts of different characters dancing on the railing. Highlights include Judd Nelson dry humping the sculpture, Molly Ringwald showing off her super-cool princess outfit as she dances on the landing, and Emilio Estevez playing air guitar in all his stonewashed-jean glory. These kids didn't have much in common, but crappy pseudo-rock brought them to new levels of understanding.

The Karate Kid, "You're the Best" (Joe Esposito). Possibly the gold standard by which all movie music montages must be judged. It has a lot going for it, from the clenched fist of approval from the Cobra Kai Sensai, to the twitchy-classic-jock-neck-cracking performed by the bleach blond Cobra Kai lackey before he enters the ring with Daniel-san, to Mr. Miyagi's passive onlooking, joined by a chipper Elizabeth Shue. What makes this montage so spectacular is that they show the match officials moving Daniel-san's name placard up and up on the tournament standings chart, to indicate him moving effortlessly through to the championships. Most important, they chose a song that really kicks it into the next level through the use of switching between major and minor keys, really building up the tension and getting you ready for the all-time classic Sweep-the-Leg Moment ("Put him in a body bag, yeah!") that follows shortly after. You can't beat this top-notch montage.

In any case, this problem is one I'm going to have to live with. So, fresh-faced youngsters, if you catch me bopping my head and singing to myself as I carry out an everyday task, just chalk it up to the fact that in my head, I'm living it up in the old days. Just try not to say "Wow."