Danger! Growing up in the ’80s

You know, I’m OK with bringing back the ’80s. I don’t mind skinny ties, synthesizers, porny mustaches. I won’t even laugh at the oversized nerdy glasses on hipsters who don’t actually need prescription eyewear. Fine. But as long as we’re embracing the decade, let’s show some love for a more unappreciated aspect of it.

The very best thing about the ’80s was that only three dangers existed in the world — quicksand, Satanic cults and abductions at the mall. Beyond that, we were untouchable. We were safe. We were happy.

1. Quicksand.

Yeah, yeah. The history books will say that the Cold War struck fear in the hearts of my generation. But I lived in Ohio. I had about as much chance of running into a Russian as I had of meeting a Muppet.

Quicksand, however, could be lurking ANYWHERE. And I knew it was true, because I saw it happen all the time.

 

 

It was impossible to be a film or TV star in the 80s without getting stuck in quicksand. In fact, the only reason actors survived the ’80s at all is that their huge shoulder pads kept them afloat in all that quicksand.

Here’s the typical scenario: You’re arguing with someone in the woods. You make a bold statement like, “I don’t need you” or “I’m going to find a way out of here or die trying.” As you walk away, you suddenly find yourself neck deep into a pit of shifting sand. As your friend/partner/relative tries to help, that person tumbles into the quagmire as well. Now both of you will drown in the dirt, suffering both slowly and quickly, because that’s the bitch of quicksand. And then … oh no! … commercial break.

 

Quicksand was such a prominent plot device in ’80s entertainment, I was convinced that I would plunge to my doom with just one misstep in the backyard. I carried around a walking stick until my teen years, simply because I wanted to make sure the ground in front of me was firm and secure.

What I didn’t realize back then is that quicksand is also incredibly sexy. I’m not sure why this buxom blonde decided to put her arms down into the quicksand, but how fortunate for us that she’s so pretty and helpless!

 

Related ’80s horror: Amnesia, which struck movie and TV heroes almost as often as quicksand. Remember how amnesia was a big thing in the 80s? If you don’t, there’s a good chance you suffered from it.

 

2. Satanic cults.

Say you’re walking around in the ’80s and you see a group of grim teenagers, clad in rock and roll t-shirts, wearing ungodly amounts of eyeliner. Fans of the Cure? NO! That’s exactly what they want you to think. These grim kids are actually Satanic cult members — and they are actively recruiting.

When I was growing up, Satanic cults were more popular than Scientology, so that’s really saying something. My parents were worried, of course. They attended several informational meetings in musty church basements, studying pamphlets entitled, “Is Your Child a Gothic?” “What to Do When Your Child is a Devil Worshipper” and “Teenage Fun? Or Satanic Ritual?”

 

What my parents learned is this: Satanists are super tricky, so they lure kids in with seemingly innocent games and music. You might think you’re playing a round of Dungeons & Dragons, but you’re actually signing on to become BFFs with Charles Manson. Messing around with a Ouija board seems like fun, but you’re practically making a collect call to Satan himself. And listening to an Ozzy Osbourne album might be harmless — or you could wake up from a musically-induced trance, your bedroom walls redecorated with bloody pentagrams and puppy skins, holding a butter knife and wondering what the heck just happened. It’s up to you.

 

I am still unclear as to whether my parents thought I might be sacrificed by Devil worshippers, or if they worried I might become a cult leader myself. Since I’ve never been the virginal type, I’m guessing it was the latter.

 

Even big business wasn’t immune to the devilish hysteria of the ’80s. Procter & Gamble couldn’t seem to shake rumors that their logo was a secret Satanic symbol, that the owner of P&G made a pact with the devil and that company profits were turned over to the Church of Satan. After this rumor was printed in our church bulletin as fact, my mom tossed all of our Crest toothpaste, and BOOM — we became a Colgate family, just like that.

 

 

3. Mall abduction

While other kids grew up with “Stranger danger!” warnings, my family was living in the prequel to a “Dateline” episode.

In the World According to My Mother, dangerous people perpetually wandered the malls of America, hypodermic needles in hand. And you’d best believe those sinister folk were prepared to inject drugs directly into the circulatory system of little girls who wandered more than three feet from their mothers.

According to my mom, injecting me with drugs was only the beginning of this nightmare. The abductor would then drag me into the mall bathroom, where they would cut and dye my hair in a toilet. They would claim me as their own child and force me into indentured servitude, likely playing the accordion for tips on street corners.

These fears were not unfounded. Back in 1985, street urchins playing the accordion were reaching crisis levels in Dayton, Ohio.

Thankfully, someone invented a service called Ident-a-Kid. The program was sponsored by police departments and TV stations, and it involved fingerprinting your child, drawing pictures of your kid’s bizarre birthmarks and putting some of their hair into a plastic bag, all of which went into a very important file somewhere. My mom was so convinced of my impending abduction, I was identified — and then re-identified — on a weekly basis for almost a decade. You could create an entire Locks of Love wig with all the hair I gave up for this thing.

Unfortunately, in order to register for the Ident-a-Kid program, we had to go to the mall. Yes. The same mall where seedy strangers were balancing their shopping bags with handfuls of hypodermic needles.

But hey, that was the ’80s. That’s how we rolled.