#Social Apology

Because I'm an English major and hence a total nerd, I often stay awake at night and wonder if a writer from our generation could ever best William Shakespeare. Forgive me for horribly misquoting a wonderful professor in the English department, who was probably quoting someone else, when I write, "Shakespeare has few peers, and no superiors." Or maybe it was Spenser or Sidney he was talking about; I feel bad that I never took notes. 

I might be a little obsessed with Shakespeare. I'll blame the fact that I'm in a class about him at the moment, but my personal relationship with The Bard leaves me feeling nostalgic. I get nostalgic for the time in my life when I actually thought I could write a decent essay from skimming the Cliff Notes. Nostalgia is such an interesting thing, but more importantly it's just "a bittersweet longing for persons, things, or situations of the past." 

The other night, tired of reading Shakespeare and gripped with nostalgia, I found myself watching "Clueless." As one of the students who happily made it through the Jane Austen seminar, I know that "Clueless" is an adaptation of Emma, but what I didn't expect to notice was the nice little sub-narrative taken right out of Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing. The great writers of the past seem to follow me everywhere, because  as people we're inclined to be so nostalgic. 

"Clueless" was released in 1995. Do we, as a society, have a bittersweet longing for persons, things, or situations from 1995 yet? I don't remember much of it, but I know Clinton was in office and Seattle grunge was on the way out. I say that because ‘95 was the year after the death of Nirvana front-man Kurt Cobain. I'm pretty sure this is also the year that my small California hometown saw the opening of its first Starbucks.

I can recall waking up early to watch "Saved by the Bell" reruns on TBS before getting ready for school, and the interesting and unforgettable hiss those AOL dial-up modems made back when the internet was still exciting and not so common place.  I believe this was the year my sister proclaimed she needed a beeper, got one, and then lost it. The Tamagotchi wasn't out yet, but it was on the way. Like me, all the other kids lost interest before the battery even needed to be replaced.  I never got on the Pokemon bandwagon, but maybe I should have. As long as we're not talking about STDs, "Gotta Catch ‘em all" is a pretty enticing slogan. 

What about 2005? Are we allowed to be nostalgic about four years ago? This was the year I was forced to get a cell phone; my parents had to drag me kicking and screaming to the Verizon store, and now I can't live without my Blackberry. Emo was new. I was tenderly known as Emoca to my friends because I was all about the black nail polish and rocking out to Acceptance while writing really bad poetry for the object of my unrequited affections. The poems weren't that bad really, but they were a little too "Dorothy Parker-esque" to get me taken seriously.

In the end, being nostalgic is a wonderful thing, and we should long for the good things from our own pasts. Longing is a strong emotion, and when we long for something we can't ever have back, like the innocence of childhood or that feeling of falling in love for the first time, we pay respect to the memory of the thing we're nostalgic about. I'm positive human beings have always been nostalgic. Shakespeare was definitely nostalgic for some guy, and if you don't believe me, go read Sonnet 57.