Column:
We need to kick our nostalgia addiction
Americans should focus on the future.
Published Feb. 12, 2009
As my roommates can probably attest, I watch more late-night television than any reasonable person should. A couple of weeks ago, curled up under a blanket in the middle of a Travel Channel marathon, I stumbled upon a rather unnerving discovery during a commercial break.
TV Land, the channel known for showing classic -- and I emphasize the term "classic" -- shows of old, was showing an episode of "Third Rock from the Sun," a sitcom starring John Lithgow as the patriarch of a family of aliens. It was a show incredibly popular among my elementary school classmates.
It made me feel old more than anything, the idea that a show I watched while putting off learning my multiplication tables as a kid is now in the "classics" bin, even though the show went off the air only seven years ago. It seemed like TV Land was jumping the gun a bit.
I always thought the acceptable gap for nostalgia was 20 years -- people in the '70s got nostalgic for the '50s (see "American Graffiti"), in the '90s, '70s retro came back in vogue (see "Dazed and Confused," the Broadway version of "Saturday Night Fever" and your Mudd bellbottoms from junior high). But now, all these pop-culture relics from our childhood are being looked on with this obsessive fit of nostalgia. Nirvana and Jane's Addiction have been lumped into a new genre called "classic alternative." VH1 even had the audacity to air "I Love the New Millennium" over the summer, a pop-culture nostalgia show for a decade that isn't even finished yet. Over the past few years, this obsession with nostalgia has been met with an overwhelming level of urgency, to the point where VH1's rotating cast of D-List celebrities wax sentimental about iPhones, Rihanna and other things that are still pretty prevalent, just to sate consumers. It's like we have this national urge to reminisce about every aspect of our culture, no matter how insignificant -- why else would that super-creepy "Nostalgiaville USA" shack off of Interstate 70 still be in business?
And I'm guilty of this, too. It's fun reminiscing about the glory days of Koala Yummies and "Legends of the Hidden Temple." And I'm sure I'm not the only one. But there has to be something else, some deep-seated psychological need that explains why the nostalgia trend has gotten this out of hand. Nostalgia obviously sells, but why? Maybe it has something to do with the idyll of youth, or the tendency ingrained in our culture to long for a "simpler time," one where we had a budget surplus, America was seen as impenetrable and "Saturday Night Live" was always funny instead of just sort of okay sometimes.
I think our need to wax nostalgic ties in with the American love of anything escapist -- we like our movies happy. It's why the film industry did so well when the rest of the country was suffering through a depression. And now, in the throes of another dreary economic chapter, collecting Three Dog Night vinyl albums and watching "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" reruns are quick hits to make us feel better when things aren't so great.
But maybe we can kick our nostalgia habit. There's a new administration, a new boost in national morale and as for the economy, what goes down will eventually come up. Instead of retreating to the past when we don't like how things are going, we should continue the post-election momentum (from all political factions, of course) and be happy about having a possible stake in our future. That includes you, VH1 talking heads.
But enough of this pep talk. Before I sign off, let me just say, "Third Rock from the Sun" star Joseph Gordon-Levitt has grown up into a fine young man.




