100% What I Would Expect From A Computation Center Portrait
Category: 1980s
Just The Caress Of Your Hand
Long Lost Scene From “Bosom Buddies”
…or I Love Lucy
…or Laverne & Shirley
Coffee At Ruby’s
At first, this image of Ruby’s Diner in Schenectady, NY may seem like a study in isolation. The calendar shows September 1988, and while that may not seem like that long ago to some of us, just peek in to this scene to see how the world has changed. 
Gerd Kittel’s pre-digital camera shows us a man and a woman (presumably both past their physical prime), sharing booths with no one. The woman appears contemplative and dressed for work. The man reminds me of my grandfather: intent on reading the news, colder in his old age and consequently cardigan-clad, and probably smells of Old Spice. No laptops, no iphones, no flat screen TVs. Just take that in–no one is staring at a screen. Like you’re doing right now.
There are Polaroids tacked to the wall. A cigarette machine. God knows the price then, but I passed one only last weekend, a relic itself, and the cost was $10 per pack. And you know smokers will pay it. Formica tabletops. The TV is not a wide screen. It has knobs which to turn. The coffee cup is small. It is not a Starbuck’s grande. That doesn’t mean he won’t consume more than the 16 oz; it just means a waitress will be by shortly to top him off. And that means human interaction. She might bring more cream. She might ask what he is reading.
But first, she will ask the photographer to step out of the way. You can see his reflection to the left of the TV, the man in the Anthony Bourdain sweater.
Collaborating And Listening
Kay and Peter enjoy drinks at Babe’s on Sixth Street in Austin, back when ashtrays denoted that smoking was allowed.
The next pic is “collaborating but not listening” because the bold houndstooth print jacket is too loud for anyone to hear anything. Let’s keep in mind this was the 90s, not Melanie Griffith in the 80s.
And no, that is not Jennifer from Family Ties, all grown up. Speaking of LOUD…
Actress Tina Yothers has black hair now. Go figure.
Chitty Chitty Bad Bangs: The Scourge of 1982
You don’t see much of this style these days. Little wispy bangs curled and spiraled like a double helix. Those of you in your 40s may also recall the curse of the add-a-bead necklace back in the day: one was supposed to wear it UNDER the collar, but like Bad Bangs shows us here, it would often pop out from under the collar.
I’m pretty sure this is Pam Dawber during her Mork and Mindy days, but that has not been confirmed. In any event, she is distracting from her two bang pieces with this horizontal stripe (probably boatneck).
This next lady looks pretty self-satisfied, having shoved her curled partial bang off to the side of her forehead, where it will not interfere with activities of daily living.
Each of these lovely ladies can console themselves that they were not donning the Dorothy Hamill cut, so popular in 1976, a full SIX YEARS PRIOR. Poor Paula cannot say the same.
Way to keep the 70s in the 80s, Paula.
This Is How We Roll
Pharmacy Girls
Whenever I Call Kenny Loggins “Awesome”
I wanted to perk up this evening, so I put on a happy song, “Whenever I Call You ‘Friend,'” by Kenny Loggins and Stevie Nicks. Yes, I enjoy soft rock. Yes, it’s a strange title. It doesn’t make sense, but neither do the 70s.
Who is this beautiful model in a peacoat, so downtrodden? Such a pretty thing.
This was Kenny post-Loggins and Messina. Yes, you have heard of them. They sing that song, “Danny’s Song,” which never says Danny at all, but you’ve heard it.
Even though we ain’t got money, I’m so in love with you, honey.
See, you remember.
Anyway, this was before Kenny wrote the soundtrack to every blockbuster movie in the 80s. Yes, all of them. Can we say royalty checks?
Whenever I hear this song, I wish I was at a packed karaoke bar, wearing a gypsy poncho like a crazed Gold Dust Woman swirling about, doing my best Stevie Nicks impression with someone possessing awesome Loggins hair.
Oh. My. Goodness. Talk about a penetrating gaze. It’s like a beady-eyed baby bird with gloriously feathered (more bird references?) tresses. Gee, I bet his hair smells terrific.
And look at THIS. Look at it. It was his Cindy Crawford supermodel phase.
I am entranced by those luscious curls.
And what about this? Some backpack-wearing Jehovah’s Witnesses left a pamphlet in a door with some serious questions.
I think he got confused. A beard-crazy WordPresser posted this awesome pic of Kenny with Messina. He was “ugly Christmas sweater” when ugly Christmas sweater wasn’t cool.
But he had to get old because we all get old. Here he is singing “What A Fool Believes” with Michael McDonald.
Son of a gun. I always thought the lyric was “The wise man has the power.” It’s not. It’s “no wise man has the power.” That changes everything. I need some time for reflection. Don’t worry. I’m alright. Don’t nobody worry about me.
Blowing In The Wind
In case you didn’t know, the Denton High School marching band is awesome. Their jersey shirts tell you so.
Hard work, perseverance, and dedication will take this band all the way to state. It doesn’t hurt that Alan can really blow. 
Jill and Dana are just happy to have an excuse to skip family Uno night each Friday. Jill gets her rebellion on by donning the purple eye shadow that Mom says makes her look like a Runaround Sue, and Dana has splashed her entire being with Jean Nate in an effort to entice Alan. And after the game, it’s endless Capri Suns and Fritos with bean dip!
If Alan is oblivious as usual, maybe she can spark some interest from Josh. Who wouldn’t want to be around Josh, when his enthusiasm is so palpable?
All Hail The Dork King
Hear ye, hear ye! All ye dweebs and jocks, preppies and new-wavers! All hail the dork king, astride his steed (which resembles a dragon, an homage to his Dungeons and Dragons skills).
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum.
The crowd goes nuts! A damsel with a parasol tosses Brach’s candies as a sign of support for the new regime!
Competition to be his queen is fierce! Tammy gives him a wink while shamelessly putting her crafty crepe paper skills on display. 
Bonnie Tyler lyrics run through her head. She can hardly keep her wits about her.
Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need!
Not to be outdone, Travis plunges through her crepe paper mayhem, as though lassoed by her wiles. 
No need to hold out for a hero any longer, Tammy! I am here with my hairless chest and my peachfuzz ‘stache at your command!
Whom shall she choose?
Cloudy With A Chance That One Of You Drove A Camaro Z28
Who could it be now? Ted, Shawn, or Michael?
It’s a tough call, but my money’s on Shawn. I can see the rumpled Code Bleu jacket in the back seat, next to a can of New Coke, a ticket stub for Rambo: First Blood II, and an empty Dokken cassette case. You rock so hard, Shawn.
While we’re at it, who’s the proud owner of that black Trans-Am that always screeches into the roller rink near closing time, scouting pubescent girls in banana clips and Esprit blouses?
Is it Ben, Larry, or Franswya? Ben is bringing the preppy Blaine vibe, but I heard he drives a totally rad Ford Bronco. Larry is not allowed to operate heavy machinery until he’s done participating in the clinical trial, so it must be Fran, giddy as heck.
I do hope that Franswya is not an alternate way of spelling François, but either way, he’s in his 40s now, so he’s at peace with the name. It’s not quite as unsettling to me as boys named Kameron, but like the overrated movie Frozen (really, what was the BIG deal?), I’ll let it go. Let’s focus instead on Bob.
What about Bob? I don’t care if those keys are to his Porsche 944, I’m not going. I’m taking the school bus home today.
I Don't Get It 