There's a current cultural trend that reminds me of an old Chris Farley sketch on "Saturday Night Live." It is the one when he interviews Paul McCartney and asks him if he remembers when he was with the Beatles. If Farley were interviewing a Tufts student, he'd probably ask, "Remember that time when Hillary Clinton came to speak and then two days later it snowed? That was AWESOME."
In a movement that seems to be spearheaded by the producers at VH1, Americans seem to be enamored of the concept of "instant nostalgia." Any major event is the best ever, the worst ever or the most important. Sometimes people add a slight chronological qualifier to their unfounded superlatives: "in our lifetime," "of the 21st century," "of this generation."
The most glaring example of this bizarre trend is the successful VH1 program, "Best Week Ever." On the show, a random assortment of B-list celebrities and comedians, combined with an occasional big star, spout about the happenings in news and culture over the past week. The show is definitely hilarious, but when placed in a larger context, its pure existence raises some questions.
Have we lost our ability to place things in a historical perspective? Everyone called this past election the most important one of our lifetimes. Weren't those same ominous words said before the 2000 election? Historians and baseball writers debate whether or not the Red Sox victory over the Yankees was the "Greatest Comeback Ever" in baseball playoffs. While those claims are probably easily defended by the fact that no team has ever rebounded from a three games to zero hole, the series ended a month ago. How about we wait a few years or decades before pinning on that absolute "ever" at the end?
Is a short term memory a thing of the past? The days of yore are nevermore, and yesteryear has apparently been changed to yestermonth. It was cute when VH1, again, premiered the first version of their nostalgia series, "I love the ...," with a sarcastic take on the '70s. Seeing as most of the network's target audience was born no earlier than the mid- to late- '70s, the sardonic program was an interesting and valuable cultural history of the decade. Then came "I Love the Eighties" and its sequel, "I Love the Eighties, Strikes Back," when once again, humor prevailed over idiocy. These two series lampooned a decade often derided by our generation. Enough time had passed to glance back and reflect on the years during which we were too young to remember anything.
But this past summer's "I Love the Nineties" exhibited why reminiscing about yesterday's news was foolhardy. The reason the show was trite and boring was because no one really needs to remember "Mambo No. 5" or the dancing baby from "Ally McBeal." The inanity doesn't end there; here are some other VH1 shows: "20 Most Awesomely Bad Songs of 2004," "40 Most Awesomely Bad Metal Songs ... Ever."
The biggest problem with instant nostalgia is that there are few, if any, qualitative statements made beyond something being the "Best" or "Worst." Then, next week, another monumental event as there is a new "best ever." For instance, when the box office returns are published each week, at least one production company will send out press releases heralding their film for being something along the lines of the "biggest opening for a domestic, live-action comedy film to open on a non-holiday weekend in the month of October in a leap year."
Obviously, these are done in a half-hearted attempt to tell audiences that the movie is indeed popular. If you haven't seen their movie, then you are missing out. Catch the "best" before it becomes the "worst."
I think Ferris Bueller had it right when he said, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." The daily routine of the average college kid or high school student is packed with classes and extracurricular activities. Social critics bemoan a loss of childhood as kids of all ages are always active doing something.
Instant nostalgia appeals to those who want to live in the now but can't because they're too busy. Instead of looking back years later wondering where their lives went, they pine for the good old days from last week. Are future historians going to look back and think we are a society riddled by attention deficit disorder?
Sensationalism plays a major role in all of this. Calling something the "best" will usually rile up controversy, and nothing sells a magazine, television show or newspaper better than that. When these media organizations make unfounded claims about what is the [insert superlative here] ever, without making any comparative analysis, it belittles the argument. Instead of becoming obsessed with the events of last week or month, why not wax poetic on something a little more deserving.
