This generation seems to be more nostalgic at a younger age than previous generations. When I was in college, my friends and I bought Ducktales on DVD. We spent hours drinking forties and just analyzing the shit out of this simple show from our childhoods. We watched an episode where Scrooge fires all these old people who work for him because they’re too slow and replaces them with robots, and for days, we talked about how Scrooge was a Reagan analogue and how Ducktales was this total mirror to the greed and materialism-gone-crazy mentality of the 1980s. We re-watched Ninja Turtles and The Simpsons. We pored over old issues of Amazing Spider-Man and X-Men. I sought out the Nintendo Entertainment System games I had as a kid, and today I own half of all the games ever produced for it. And I’m not the only one doing this. There are Nintendo games that fetch well over a hundred dollars on eBay because there’s this huge market of twenty-somethings who want to own all the crap they had in childhood. My buddy Amy Whipple owns just about every Babysitters Club book that’s ever been published. She blogs about them. My buddy Katie Coyle tears up if she thinks too much about the final Harry Potter book.
Salvatore Pane’s first novel, Last Call in the City of Bridges
, is coming out later this fall, and I was really excited about it until he outed my Harry Potter tears to the entire literary world via this interview in Used Furniture Review
and then in the next paragraph implicitly criticized me for not sending anyone to the moon. Fuck you, Sal!
Even though there’s an egregious error of fact: Sweet Valley, not BSC. But still. That Sal Pane, guys.