‘Why did they ever get rid of…?’ January edition
It’s a new month, new semester, same column, still unsure about the Eggo waffle. These are the times. Welcome to our “Why did they ever get rid of…?” lineup for January. Pencils up.
– Why did they ever get rid of “Yeah, right?”
Was a phrase ever more useful for adolescent naysayers in an era when decorum was more highly regarded than saving proof of purchase box tops to redeem for a “Power Rangers” watch? There is something simply majestic about the “Yeah, right,” that we just don’t comprehend anymore. It was seemingly everything we love about sarcasm vacuum compacted into a shipping pod for us, like an Extra Strength Tylenol for brash personalities.
Somehow, as “Boy Meets World” was taken from air, this blessing of youthful phraseology was violently jammed into an interpersonal communication time capsule, never to be used again, and I say the wait is over. Bring it back in full force. And I’m not just talking about the phrase, I’m talking about the attitude that comes with the phrase. The raised neck, the stiffened lip, the strange curled pronunciation of “right.” All of it. We have become too critical as a society, too critical of the world around us, and nothing can rescue our heart and minds much like the “Yeah, right” mentality. Let’s not allow this effort to fall in vain.
– Why did they ever get rid of Altoids Sours?
Remember these? Tell me you remember these. It was our only way to possibly exclaim, “I value fresh breath, but I’m also bonkers for under-ripe tangerines.” We searched for years and finally had it, and if you were one of the few lucky ones who found a container of sours that weren’t all fused together into one giant lip-scrunching amoeba, you could enjoy it with the highest of splendor.
How we ever lost our sour tooth I’ll ever know, but the calming tide that brushed Warheads, Cry Baby bubble gum and drinking Kool-Aid powder straight from the pouch chiseled away a very large chip from our cultured way of life, and it brought the hallowed Altoids Sours down with it, tin package and all.
– Why did they ever get rid of “Ghostwriter?”
Most of you may know nothing about this show; and friends, that’s the problem. It was the only PBS children’s program that fused the worthy values of learning, suspense, mystery and viewers like you – thank you. The show portrays six middle school friends who emphasize the ever-vital importance of well-earned phonics by solving mysteries through worded clues displayed all throughout their urban generic scenery by this floating reverb ball-looking thing. When every half hour commenced, the sextet careened toward the credits, not only accomplished in the cutthroat society cold case detective grammar but also coming out of it as better young men and women. And if you need further proof, do yourself a favor and YouTube the “Gooey Gus” episodes. Just trust me on this.
– What ever happened to fast-paced comedic Eminem videos?
Look, I know. The guy can say words fast. I just feel like those fast words meant so much more to us when they were what we truly needed – begged for, even – as a people when they uproariously mocked Carson Daly. To say anything otherwise is a bona fide atrocity.
– Whatever happened to Spacemakers?
We’re solving three problems bringing Spacemakers back. First, we’re increasing the amount of round-cornered rectangles to trace when lectures were less than interesting. Second, this adds more colorful boxes across the land – never a fact to overlook. Finally, and most vitally, we have found a way to solve the collegiate epidemic and always losing all our pens all the time.
And while we’re at it, let’s bring back Spacemaker labels. That’s right, crayon-scribed first names and possibly last initials if more than one person in class has the same first name. Just like that, we’re saying professors’ names in unison and drinking from complimentary chocolate milk cartons, having everything that made elementary school worth our while. You’re welcome.
There you have it; your sharp dash of mind-numbing nostalgia for the month. Send me your suggestions for next month. Do you have something I haven’t thought of? It’s possible, but until you prove it so … yeah, right.