To be a child of the ’80s is a strange thing. There’s a strange mix of nostalgia and embarrassment for the entire decade, but especially for the music we grew up with. As much as we all want to pretend that we were all listening to cool music back when we were a mere eight years old, most of us would be lying if we claimed that. As strange as it is for me to accept now, I remember when I used to love New Kids on the Block. It seems like a shame that I was too young to get into a lot of the great music that came out in the ’80s, but it’s certainly not too late now.

All of America heaved a sigh of relief when the seventies were finally over. Things had been getting sour near the end of our funk era, what with disco’s drawn-out death and all our nation’s lovely political faux pas. Our country hated Vietnam veterans, feared African Americans, and ate fried food three meals a day. Things weren’t so hot. We elected Dick Nixon twice, people. Twice.

Popularity. Yikes. When I was 12 years old, my best friend Leila Morton and I went on what she called a "popular binge." Urged on by her older brother’s threats that if we weren’t popular by eigth grade, high school would be miserable, we embarked on a month-long initiative to get popular by any means necessary. (Her brother was, by the way, a freshman at the time, and obviously hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about). We sat at "the table," invested in L.L. Bean plaid, and even allowed the annoying guys from the boys’ school across the street a dance or two at the weekly mixers.

The 1980s: if ever there was a decade about which I did not care to reminisce, that would be the one. The others would be the 1990s, the 1970s, and all of the other decades. I do not remember much of anything these days, and for that I blame this godforsaken weather. The rainy season, this interminable gray Claremont downpour, is taking a terrible toll on our collective mental health. By "our" I of course mean "my," and by "collective" I of course mean "shut up." I am also a little tense.

In my last year at Pomona, I’ve noticed that there are only two types of musical events on campus. Be it classical, jazz, rock’n’roll, "turntablism," bleeps-and-bloops electronics, or anything else, all events can be classified as one of two things: those events where the audience is involved and those events where the audience is not. In drawing this distinction, it’s important to remember that there are two kinds of participants in any live music: the audience and the performer.

Osaka Restaurant, the newest Japanese restaurant in Upland, is located in the Big 5 shopping center on Mountain Avenue! This new restaurant features a full sushi bar and traditional Japanese tatami seating as well as regular table seating. We visited on a Saturday evening and were seated immediately at the sushi bar.

It was a great day in 500 BC, when the mighty Caesar declared himself emperor of the world after sacking Greece and punishing the Huns and the French. Then the Greeks tracked down and slayed the last remaining dinosaurs, ensuring that no longer would animals be taller than trees. Except giraffes, which were not introduced to popular culture until the mid-70s, thanks to NASA technology and generous support from viewers like you.

Sadly, not everyone of y’all can be a Lawry C-3 Hustla. This I know. I understand that some of you young’uns down on South Campus might have just gotten into stuntin’ and might not know what the hell Sam Steezy’s talking about in his column. So fo’ the sake of the childrens, Ima offer up a li’l explanification of some of the words and phrases you mighta seen me use.