Legend has it that a naked runner named Coroebous of Elis won the sole event during the first-ever recorded Olympic Games in 776 BC. Things haven't changed too much, because last night, we -- the people of 2012 -- were treated to Jessie J in not one but two nude bodysuits during the The London 2012 Olympic Games Closing Ceremony. However, the biggest story of the night was the much-ballyhooed Spice Girls reunion.
Reunion?
Wait, wasn't it just last week that me and my friends were dancing to "Wannabe" in our freshman year college dorm? That was in 199-when, you say?
As I watched (in order of my personal preference) Posh, Ginger, Sporty, Baby and Scary do their thing on my TV, I could hear my 10-month-old daughter snoring in the next room. In the world she lives in -- the only world she has ever known -- the Spice Girls exist exclusively as a "reunion." It seems so odd. And it made me realize a few things about how different the universes we each live in are. Here are a few of the most noteworthy:
- My daughter missed co-existing with Michael Jackson by two years, while I missed Elvis, someone I associate most with velvet paintings, by just one.
- Brad Who? As far as my daughter knows, Jennifer Aniston's only love -- ever -- is Justin Theroux. Congrats to those two crazy kids!
- The Oprah Show is something she will only see reruns of, kind of like The Mary Tyler Moore Show for me.
- Madonna is 53 years older than her. My equivalent would be Angela Lansbury, who was born 53 years before I was -- in the year 1925.
- She's shared more time on earth with Whitney, the sitcom, than she did with Whitney Houston.
- William and Kate have been married her whole life (although, our first Mommy-Daughter date was when I woke up at 4 a.m. to watch the wedding "with" her while I was pregnant). She will never imagine marrying Wills.
- Kurt Cobain died 17 years before she was born. By contrast, JFK was assassinated only 15 years before I was.
Whoa. That grainy black and white footage of President Kennedy in Dallas -- that tragic piece of American history -- took place only fifteen years before me? What does that mean for my baby? Is plaid flannel going to look to her the way the clothes on Mad Men look to me?
I can't wait to one day tell her the legend of a boy called Bieber, who, when my baby girl is Sweet 16, will be the same age her dear old mom is now -- practically Angela Lansbury territory.
Read more from Liz Kozak at poseypieproductions.com.