Member-only story
A Chameleon Ahead of His Time
I still want my MTV back! Yes, give me back that gold shag carpet rug burn, on my knobby knees! The rug burn from kneeling six inches from the screen of the old, beloved floor model TV. As Michael Jackson beat it, the Eurythmics gave me sweet dreams, Devo whipped it good, and Robert Palmer apologized that he did not mean to turn me on. I spent my teen years bedazzled by them all.
I cannot tell you how many times a skinny, pimple faced kid like me, karaoked my ass off in front of a mirror, before it was even a thing. I was a misfit kid, who found my friends on MTV. That was my social media, kids. Hearing that old theme song still makes me feel warm and fuzzy. The last time I tried to look at this newfangled MTV, I groaned “Nooooo!” in pure emotional turmoil.
Like Boy George, I wail, “Do you really want to hurt me?” Obviously, yes, they do. By the way, did anybody see that scene in Wedding Singer with the impersonator of Boy George? Very funny indeed but it sadly made me yearn for my childhood.
I absolutely loved every single artist on MTV in the eighties! Take me away, downtown Judy Brown! Every single sparkly socked moonwalk, every coo of a dove crying, Billy Idol having a white wedding and dancing with himself and let us not forget the image of a squinty, bent over Cindi Lauper belting out “Time After Time”, time after time after time. All…
