Leave that neon clothing in the closet: The '80s are over

So take a little trip with me back in the day when Ricky Schroeder was the centerfold of every teen magazine, when people actually watched PBS ("Degrassi Junior High!"), when we all secretly wanted to be slimed on "You Can't Do That on Television." Get in touch with your roots and let's re-live the magic of the movies, music, lingo and the lace gloves.

The movies of the '80s were quality flicks you just don't see anymore. Breakfast Club ("Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?"), Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Better Off Dead ("$2!"), One Crazy Summer and Coming to America are all a riot. They are the kind of movies you can watch over and over again, with the kind of actors who didn't need terrorists or natural disasters to draw crowds.

Can't Buy Me Love gets the award for the most rad '80s flick of all time, and if you haven't seen it, run like the wind down to the video store and check it out. It has all the elements of a quintessential angst-ridden '80s movie -- a teen overcoming all obstacles, even bad hair, to attain the seemingly impossible and the kind of humor you can't find even in today's highest-rated sitcom. I couldn't tell you the words to the "Penn State Alma Mater," though I doubt most people could, but I can recite nearly every line in this movie. In fact, I'm thinking about petitioning for an '80s Film Appreciation class to added to the arts requirement course list.

Hearing "Africa" and "Jessie's Girl" gives me a burst of energy I hadn't felt until they put Jolt back on the market. You can't duplicate the bubble gum lyrics of "Mickey," "Karma Chameleon" and "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" anymore. I'm sorry, but the Hanson brothers aren't quite cutting it: Every time I hear "MMMBop" I wish someone would gag me with a spoon.

Talking about the '80s fills me with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. As the '90s come to a close, I am saddened by the lack of a defining style, of a specific genre of film and music, of something I can reminisce about down the road. I doubt I'll choose to watch reruns of "Friends" over episodes of "The Facts of Life," or that I'll pump "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone" instead of "Ghostbusters" at my next rager.

But, as much as the '80s rock my world, they are over. The legend continues, but some things, namely the fashion, ended, or at least should have, with the final season of "Miami Vice." So, I plead with you, students of Penn State, stop pegging and tight-rolling those jeans! One sock per foot will suffice, thanks. And there is no need for, as I observed on my big shopping extravaganza to Nittany Mall, a Bon Jovi wall clock to be on display and up for sale.

And speaking of washed-up '80s rock stars, some of our favorites should have given up about a decade ago. As classic as Out of the Blue is, Debbie Gibson should have retired that black, crimped hair long ago. But alas, she is back with a new disc, Deborah, on Espiritu Records. Yeah, I'll be sure to check that one out. I'm just waiting for my "D.G.I.F." discount to kick in. (You too can join The Deborah Gibson International Fan Club for the low cost of $20, which includes an 8-by-10 photo and color button!)

So while I cherish my Billboard Hits of the '80s CDs, I have packed away my pair of SKIDZ pants and parted with my collection of charm bracelets. I've grown up and moved on, but I know my beloved '80s will be waiting for me when I decide to return.