Dear Pop Music of the Late 80s, Early 90s,

How I miss your charms! When I revisit your melodic graces, I remember times of yore, when I was both young and stupid. Your cheesy gorgeousness melts my heart and puts a smile on my face.

When I hear the melodic tunes of Paula Abdul, "A buh-buh-bh-buh, Buh-buh-baba-bye-bye," or "Look into his eyes, oh, uh-oh, he's been telling lies," I have fond memories of Vh1 and the worst veejay of all time, Rosie O'Donnell.

When I hear the throaty wails of Taylor Dayne, "Tell it to my heart, tell me I'm the only one, is it truly love or just a game?" I think of Jem and the Holograms--I don't really know why; I just do. For some reason Taylor's siren and Jem are forever linked in my mind.

When I can hear the strains of Donny Osmond's "Soldier of Love" I feel the need to run around my living room and pretend to ice skate like Nancy Kerrigan or Tanya Harding. Again, who can explain the reason certain songs are linked forever with certain events?
Oh, late 80s, early 90s, I will forever remember when Will Smith was the Fresh Prince and lamenting that "Parents Just Don't Understand." I will revel in the days when Bret Michaels crooned, "Ev'ry rose has its thorn, just like every night has it's dawn. Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song. Every rose has its thorn." Ahh. The poetry. How much more heartfelt can you get then sad cowboy songs? Oh, Late 80s, it wasn't just your music I loved. But it was also your hair:






Oh how fondly I remember your charms--Do you ever miss Ace of Base? Or perhaps Color me Badd? I mean, who doesn't wanna be Sexed Up?

Dear Music of the Late 80s, early 90s, I will remember you fondly, for you were my first love, however misguided it was (can you say Mariah Carey). I cherished you, had girlish dreams about Casey Holbrook to you, and cleaned my room to your artificial sounds. Oh, Music of the Late 80's, Early 90's, you completed me then, and you make me happy now.