Did I love the Beastie Boys in the 80s? Nope. (It was hard to be a girl and dig some Beasties back in the day. Funny, sure, Girls! To do the dishes! Girls! etc... I guess I sometimes -- a lot of the time -- wasn't in the mood.) Still, I find myself clicking a link to this WHACK new trailer -- with "Danny McBride, Seth Rogen, Elijah Wood, Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly, Jack Black, Rainn Wilson, Rashida Jones, Jason Schwartzman, Ted Danson, Steve Buscemi, Stanley Tucci, Susan Sarandon, Chloë Sevigny and Will Arnett."
I watched it -- mesmerized, baffled, entertained -- and finally exclaimed, as a true Beastie Boys fan might, "Jacking Mike D. to my dismay." Did I get a little misty for the old days? I might've.
But I don't need an all-star cast of comedians revamping some Beastie love to get nostalgic. Not these days. I sure don't.
Last night, rollin' into the Faculty Research Dinner, we hit upon some Bell Biv Devoe. "That girl is poison ... You never trust a big butt and a smile ... Yo, slick, blow." Did we love that song in our youth? Nope. But Dave was back in Martha's Vineyard and I was bouncing in some clubs and it was all good. (And it put us in the EXACT right head space for cocktail banter with neuroscientists and all.)
Because the stuff that recalls memory, the stuff that is a placeholder for an era of your youth -- even if you hated it at the time -- will pop you into some nostalgic gear and, you can't help it, you're back and young.
I've often thought of coal miners looking back at their youth. Don't they get nostalgic for what's packed their lungs -- if only because they were young underground, their lungs were good then.
So, BBD, baby. Love you up some Beasties. It's Friday and they "can always make them smile
From White Castle to the Nile."