Old Kids on the Block: the big business of nostalgia

Perhaps it was the Beverly Hills 90210 redux, when former rivals Brenda and Kelly morphed into 30-something cougars, an absent Dylan turned out to be Kelly's baby daddy, and the nubile crop of high school gals made headlines for being too thin -- even circa 2008. Maybe it was this year's 20th anniversary "reunion" edition of seminal late-'80s flick, Heathers.

Or Heathers and Pump up the Volume teen 'throb Christian Slater, rehabbed and reinvented on network television (My Own Worst Enemy). It could've been the recycling of '80s fashion -- the Ray Bans, jelly shoes, ripped sweats, leggings and cuffed, acid-washed jeans. And that back-to-school JC Penney ad that copied the The Breakfast Club to a retro T [shirt].

Who am I kidding? It was the resurrection of the New Kids on the Block -- the screaming, sold-out, beefed up, irony-free "We're baaaack!" of Donnie, Danny, Jordan, Jon and Joey.

I wouldn't go so far as to use the "o" word, but I feel, em, aged.

Mama said there'll be days like this, when my generation was the new old thing. I could've never comprehended such until now, when High School Musical and Zac Efron and the All American Rejects and any number of other innocuous commodities marketed to audiences a decade-plus younger than me signaled the inevitable. When I shifted from a present tense-r to a past one. Age-d, get it?

I'm not knocking it, really. The passage of time is not a bad thing. I'm 32, for frak's sake -- hardly an afterthought. I have, however -- and those cusp-dwelling Gen X/Y-ers like me -- ceded the demographic to the new, nu wave. Meanwhile, we eat up those pop-culture nostalgia series like Family Guy, I Remember the '80s and even '90s -- it's never too early to cash in on memories. Hold onto an article of clothing, a record, anything, long enough, and sooner or later it'll come back in fashion. Sooner -- no, later -- is now.

Prince and Madonna are 50. Michael Jackson is also past that milestone on whatever planet he presently inhabits. MTV is altogether tragic anymore. The Coreys (Feldman and Haim) have been reduced -- or upgraded, in their cases -- to a basic-cable reality show. Jared Leto, My So Called Life's pensive dreamboat, Jordan Catalano, is best known these days as the guyliner-ed frontman for band Thirty Seconds to Mars. Kirk Cameron's off fathering a bajillion kids and making those Left Behind movies. Michael J. Fox is ... sigh ... Alex P. Keaton 4Ever.

Fox goes to show how an icon evolves. Look at Johnny Depp. I still have homemade VHS tapes of 21 Jump Street. Every year, I rewind that 1989 Halloween episode in which Depp channeled Jim Morrison at a séance and later dressed up as Travis Bickle. Wall of Voodoo's awesome cover of "Ring of Fire" led off the show and Peter DeLuise was Count Chocula and Dustin Nguyen was paunchy Elvis. A barrage of meaningless, dated trivia? Tough poop, kids. And while I'm at it, yes, The Cure's Disintegration is the best album ever.

Which brings me back to NKOTGiveItUp. That Jump Street episode's title summarizes it: "Old Haunts in a New Age." Fifteen years since fading from relevance, the "kids" again invaded VH1 -- nostalgia central for those who still fancy themselves "with it," yours truly included. This spring's Today Show announcement, where "Blockhead" soccer moms went batshit nutty, was embarrassing enough; VH1's bloated, two-hour retrospective made the reunion out to be the second coming.

I had a few momentary lapses of teen reason (rhymes with Geddie Dibson and Miffany), but I never dug the New Kids. Ever. During the group's Hangin' Tough prime, an eighth-grade classmate and I organized a "Hang the New Kids" day in our "McIntrash" hallway, complete with destruction of audio cassettes and like-minded rabblerousing. Still, I was pleased to see Marky Mark's bro, Donnie, become a respectable actor, while cutiepatootie Joey and pasty Jordan gave the music solo shots.

It was only a matter of -- wait for it -- time. "Summertime," that is -- the title of NKOTB's comeback single. Yeah, I've never dug reunions either. Do yourself a favor, and YouTube the video. You'll pee your pants. From the intro shot of a helicopter hangar opening with mad dope, wannabe hip-hop motifs and Donnie texting the guys -- they're texting, peoples! Texting! They are so current! -- to all the split screens and uses of "girl," it's a desperate attempt at revitalizing the brand. Yeah, I said it.

The first few minutes are pure silliness and generally kinda creepy, but I really lose it with the flaccid closing choreography. NKOTB gently rock the worlds of a whole 20 moving, silhouetted "fans" -- the five guys clad all in white, right down to Donnie's bleached trucker's hat (and button your shirt, Boo). The scene is clumsy and lame and hilarious, as Donnie, in some bid for bad grammar street cred, croons, "as long as we was together."

For every Slater, Patrick Dempsey, Christina Applegate -- have you caught reruns of Married With Children recently? I have. Like whoa -- there's an NKOTB. "I could reminisce forever," Donnie sings. Whatever you say. As for me, I'm cool with aging and feeling age-d -- at least for now. I think I've even got a pair of Docs and a few flannel shirts in storage. It's only a matter of ...