Let’s bury the 70’s

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes–however briefly–you find yourself within captive earshot of a radio that’s under the command of someone who has a two-digit IQ and a penchant for three-digit volume.

Never mind all that nonsense about second hand smoke. Second-hand noise isprobably worse, at least when it’s the vulgar, repetitive aural chewing gum that empty heads use to stave off the cranial vacuum that would otherwise exist.

The problem with the stuff is that it will flush any higher order thoughts out of the heads of innocent bystanders.

Such were my reflections–under the ear-stink of such second-hand cacophony–as I couldn’t help but marvel that a new nadir appears to have been reached in marketing Dull Noises for the Dull. Turns out the perpetrator in this case is Cher. Cher? That moose-faced old space cadet? Cher?

I thought they had entombed her along with the reactor at Three Mile Island or something; toxic waste that should be buried, never to rise again. I always thought her late husband, Sonny Bono, was pretty cool, after he had the sense to leave the moose behind and become something of a hit in California as a level-headed politician.

But Sonny is gone, and as a cruel counterpoint to his passing, the worst of the 70’s appears to have been resurrected. Disco–remember disco? It’s baa-aa-ack. Perish the thought.

What’s next? Those goofy hairstyles and velour shirts? Chevy Vega cars? The AMC Pacer? Mood rings? No, no, no, I say…once was more than enough.

And all the worst of Cher, combined with the modern strains of amplified vulgarity, is too much to bear. Why is NATO bombing TV stations in Serbia when some pop radio stations in the west are the real criminals?

And I shouldn’t even mention the meta-freak Michael Jackson, himself a product of the 70’s who has mutated and re-mutated quicker than the AIDS virus. Jackson remains more virulent than ever; I’ve heard auto accidents that were easier on the ears than his stuff.

True, some good rock and roll did come out of the 70’s, which is the sole redeeming factor of the decade. But to take the disco germ, inject it with some new genes, and release it into the air, is plainly a crime against humanity.

So let’s bury the 1970’s, once and for all. Purge the disco from wherever is lurks. Eliminate all references to the decade from history books. Put a gag order on Cher. Hunt down disco perpetrators like Nazi war criminals.

Once and for all, let’s drive a wooden stake through the heart of that vapid, obnoxious decade, so that our children, and our children’s children, won’t have to experience the horror of synthetic fibers and synthetic noise.

Stephens is an economist with Stephens Corporation, a professional organization in the NMI. His column appears three time a week: Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Mr. Stephens can be contacted via the following e-mail address:ed4Saipan@yahoo.com.