Click on the images to enter the community.
What could be better than reminiscing about past times? Exactly, traveling back to the past. Whether it is a time that someone has never experienced, or vice versa a time of which one has pleasant memories. In this case, the latter option.
Like some of you, I have also spent a lot of time in recent years on various social networks on pages dedicated to the 1980's, which is the decade in which I grew up (actually, I remember almost nothing about the first part of the 1980's, as I was too young).
And like many others, for some time I enjoyed commenting on the various images, adding my own memories with brief comments, and comparing my memories with the comments of others. But over time, I began to find this too repetitive and probably even superficial.
At one point, it was like when someone gets together with relatives or friends, and starts flipping through a photo album of times gone by: at first, every single photograph arouses strong emotions and evokes intense memories among everyone present, but soon it starts to become monotonous. ...Well, I assume that everyone has had this experience. At least anyone old enough to own material photos in material albums. And anyone who does not have a certain age, probably doesn't even have material photos. I hope they have at least digital copies somewhere, that have not got lost in the transition from one smartphone to the next.
The evocative power of groups about the 1980's on social media gradually faded, and in order to bring it back, I had to reactivate my old Nintendo and play Duck Hunt with the orange gun. Or admire my collection of floppy discs for the C64. Or watch Back to the Future for the thousandth time (literally).
Then I stumbled by chance upon Storyexpe, this new social network. For first thing (actually not exactly the very first, but almost immediately) I went to see the content related to the 1980's, and found a whole section called "The time machine." This led me to an idea: instead of continuing to post just single pictures or videos related to the 80's, as I was doing elsewhere, I wanted to create a real time travel. What would happen if I actually had a time machine at my disposal? Let's set aside any implication of interventions in the past on future actions (unless they result in me becoming rich in the present ...but I'm not going back to 1985 to buy an almanac).
First of all, I asked myself what moment of the 1980's I would return to. What time in my childhood would I choose? One in which I would want to change something? Or rather a time so lovely that I would simply want to relive it with the carefreeness of that time? I thought about it for a long time, until memory placed me by itself in a specific situation. But more about that later.
What’s the point of all this? For quite a few years now we have been inundated with a wave of reboots and recurring vintage trends. Whether it's movies, music, or other pop-culture phenomena. And talking from time to time with people who experienced "the originals" in the 1980's, we (almost) unanimously agree that, with very few exceptions, no one can faithfully evoke the spirit of the 1980's. Of course, the fact that we were still children then, thus more likely to absorb whatever was proposed to us, might also play a role.
Thus, after some time spent here on Storyexpe to meet like- minded people, I came up with the idea of creating a more immersive experience than simply posting and commenting on images and videos. Taking advantage of the time machine and the different areas, I wanted to create an experience that allows something closer to a time travel, with the intention to capture as much as possible of the spirit of the 1980's. For those who decide to accompany me on this journey, you are of course welcome to add your memories and experiences about it. Or to "visit" the era for the first time, if you are too young to have experienced it (Yes, you might be faster than be to write on smartphones with your thumbs... but you have not experienced the 80's). >>> To be continued... just click below.
When talking about a past era, particularly if it is strongly present in popular culture, as is the case precisely with the 1980's or 1950's, there is often a tendency to romanticize the most positive or at least the most characteristic aspects. Over time, a symbolic image is created in the mind, that encompasses them. When I think back to the 1980's, many of the most vivid memories are included in the period between 1987 and 1989.
This is because before that I was too young to have many concrete memories, but in particular because in those years many of my passions were formed, that have then accompanied me for the rest of my life. With a brief interlude in my adolescence and as a young adult (roughly between the ages of 14 and 19), when I had entirely different interests and had tried to bury everything related to my childhood. Only to exhume it soon after, and carry it with me to this day, stronger than ever. Two in particular are the key moments. One, which inspired everything I am writing, and the thoughts behind it. The other, an invisible remorse that has been with me all my life, but to which I had resigned myself.
And I would like to start with this last one. It's about my cousin Jennifer, who died in a car accident in 1990. She was almost five years older than me (which at that age equals half a generation). We did not live in the same town, and we spent almost every of our summer vacations together (which I spent at my aunt and uncle's house, thus her parents). Not only was it the most enjoyable time of each year, but I learned a lot with her. Everything I was not being taught elsewhere, especially on a character level. The summer of 1989 was the last one we spent together. The accident occurred in early 1990. Later that year, in summer, my aunt and uncle insisted insisted that I should nevertheless go there for the vacations, despite Jennifer's absence. My parents convinced me to go. My aunt and uncle did everything they could to make me comfortable. That was the last time I went. During that summer, an emptiness had been created in me, which I had not realized that I had been carrying it with me, invisible, for my entire life. Jennifer's voice remained present in my thoughts for many, many years. In fact it still is, but I am not sure if it's still the same voice as hers.
Over the years, memory has certainly altered it. It has become increasingly vague. Unfortunately, I do not have any video with her, only photos (one of the rare circumstances in which I regret that smartphones did not exist before). In any case, even if I had her voice clearly present, it would be that of 1989. The Jennifer of today would no longer be the teenager who has accompanied my thoughts since then, but she would be almost fifty years old. I could never imagine what she might be like. Instead, I imagined very often what I would have done if I could go back to our last meeting in the summer of 1989. Of course I could not have avoided the inescapable; but what would it be like if I, not the little Patrick who had no other priority than to own the same Casio watch with calculator as Marty McFly, but the Patrick of today (who still owns exactly that watch) could speak to her. Could say goodbye to her.
But the real cause that gave life to this column happened just a couple of weeks ago. At a small auto- show, I saw again after a long time what had been the dream car of my childhood: the Ferrari Testarossa (excluding cars from movies and TV series, like Knight Rider and the DeLorean). When I saw it parked, red, with open pop-up headlights and lights on, I immediately saw one of the many models of this car that I had. But one in particular. A few months before Christmas 1988 (actually it was well over three months away, if I remember correctly, so more like summer had been over for a few weeks) I was in a toy store, with my parents. And there I saw a remote-controlled model of a Ferrari Testarossa. Too big, too expensive for me, I thought. One of those dreams, which will never come true. I thought.
But my parents had seen the look in my eyes. ...And more importantly, they had noticed that that car had become my main destination in the weeks that followed. But I never thought I would have it. One day, about a month before Christmas, I don't remember for what reason, but I looked for something in my parents' bedroom closet. There I noticed (it was actually well hidden) a box already wrapped for Christmas, which seemed to be the same size as the one that contained the remote-controlled Testarossa.
In any case, that is the period that most characterized who I am today. I don't know if I will go as far as to meet Jennifer. >>> To be continued.
