My husband was born in 1968.
My husband was out catching tail in night clubs when I was at home learning multiplication tables, lip synching to the Mini-Pops and leaving teeth under the pillow for the tooth fairy.
I was born in 1978.
When I was having my braces taken off, learning to drive a car, and moshing to Smells Like Teen Spirit, my husband was engaged to some broad named Kathleen.
I enjoy teasing him about being old. I love to remind him that he’s a cradle robber, and that he may as well have been circling the playground when he found me. He fondly pats me on the head and says that he’s thrilled that I must have some unresolved daddy issues that he benefits from. Insert joke about me “being a paleontologist, because I dig dinosaur bone” here.
Most of the time, the 10 years between us is negligible. Men, by and large, are immature. Having to keep up with him has aged me, and having kids has really kicked me over the edge.
However, from time to time, he forgets that I’m not part of his 80’s pop-star youth, and says something to me that I just don’t get. At all. He is always surprised that I’m not up on some aspect of what was trendy in 1983, and I have to remind him that I was just starting my career in kindergarten.
The other day, he was surfing YouTube, and was all misty eyed and choked up about the good old days of neon and stirrup pants. I sat down, and we spent an hour locating old TV shows that we remembered loving as kids.
Him: Oh! Yes! How about…..Three’s Company!
Me: Wok with Yan! Remember him? His aprons were whacky!
Him: Oh yeah. Wok the dog! I remember that. What about…Edge of Night!
Me: Ha! They used to show it on channel 7 when we were eating dinner! Dynasty! Woo!
Him: Man, that was a long time ago.
Me: Oooh! Oooh! Look up The Fall Guy!
*sings along with the Fall Guy Theme Song*
Me: Oh! I never thought I’d hear that again!
Him: Hawaii Five-O! Fantasy Island! Love Boat!
Me: WKRP in Cincinnati! Chips! Jeffersons!
Him: Littlest Hobo! Bionic Woman! Gunsmoke!
Me: Gunsmoke, Rawhide, Green Acres is our parent’s shit, man. It was on in syndication.
Him: Hey! Do you remember this song? *puts on something by Berlin that I’m supposed to know, but don’t.*
…and this is where everything goes to pot.
I like my music = rock. I like classic rock. I like glam. I like metal. I DO NOT LIKE POP MUSIC. He ONLY likes pop music and/or Contemporary Christian music, which is also pop-y.
Him: What was the name of the guy from The Human League that married George Michael’s backup singer, Shirlie?
Me: A what, what?
Him: Shirlie. Who was the guy from Human League that married Shirlie?
Me: Who the hell is Shirlie? I have no idea what The Human League is. Is it like a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen or World Health Organization?
Him: *sigh* PEPSI and SHIRLIE. George Michael’s back up dancers? Hello!
Me: I didn’t know he had back up dancers, or that they had names. I thought he pranced around alone or while groping Andrew Ridgeley.
Him: You’re kidding me. EVERYONE knows who they are.
Me: Um, no. Pretty sure NOBODY knows who they are, and nobody cares.
Him: You don’t remember them in Club Tropicana?
Me: Whatchu talkin’ about Willis? Was that a movie? Because as far as I know, it’s a type of orange juice.
Him: The song. The video. Club TROPICANA…..
Me: Never heard of it.
Him: How can you NOT know it?
Him: EVERYONE knows it. Where were you?
Me: In 1983? I was going into kindergarten.
Me: The first song I remember on Much Music was “Like A Virgin” by Madonna. That is when I started to recognize pop culture and trends in music. I was in grade 1.
Him: *totally tuned out and not listening* I can’t believe you don’t KNOW Club Tropicana!
Me: *head explodes* Gack. When you learn all the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby, come talk to me. Geezer.
Sometimes I wonder if my life would have been easier if I’d married someone who at least came from my own generation, and not the one between me and my parents. Conversations like this are not terribly important in the grand scheme of things, but illustrate that we’re missing a common experience, and one of us is constantly playing catch up, and the other is playing mentor.
He is lucky I have a soft spot for the elderly. Yuk, yuk.