Trading fears for tears
Nostalgia, believe it or not, was actually once considered a medical disease that required pharmaceutical treatment. The word is a combination of the Greek nóstos (“returning home”) and álgos (“pain or ache”) or “ache for home” and was first used in the late 1600s to diagnose Swiss mercenaries in France who frequently became sick and even deserted because of acute homesickness.
It became so bad that military authorities banned them from singing some of their native folk songs, suspecting that they contained unique pathogenic properties that caused them to be overly sentimental. Had anyone tried to do that, however, to the thousands of fans who crammed the Araneta Coliseum last May 2 for the Tears for Fears (TFF) reunion concert, there would most certainly have been a revolution. And although its classification as an illness has also long been discredited, all it took was the opening notes of the group’s first hit, Mad World, to drive the largely 30 and 40-something crowd into a nostalgic frenzy that lasted for almost two hours. The members of one of the hottest bands from the ’80s were visibly blown away by the fanatical response and couldn’t stop smiling as the fans converted the concert into one giant karaoke party. In some instances, the band didn’t even have to sing anymore as the crowd belted out their hits for them in perfect unison.
In terms of teleporting through time, the group’s songs did not bring me as far back as most of the throng at the concert. Although I am also familiar with all of their hits, I caught the new-wave craze just as my age group was leaving college to finally enter the real world (or as the lyrics of one TFF song describe it, the “daily races” of a “mad world”). But for the vast majority of those in the coliseum, this was their teen music. These were the words and melodies that reminded them of the time when they were invincible and they went nuts as their entire glorious adolescent years became packed into one euphoric “slicing-the-arms-through-the-air motions” night of dancing and singing. As that famous TFF refrain goes, “Nothing lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world.”
While my wife and I were happily acting like teenagers with my other in-laws at the Big Dome, our kids and their cousins were busy with their own affair as well. As part of the night’s logistical arrangements, they were all sleeping at my sister-in-law’s house. They quickly converted one of the rooms into a mini-moviehouse complete with dark lights, popcorn, and handmade tickets. They were all so excited at the prospect of having limited Parental Guidance that they practically shooed us away: “Aren’t you leaving yet?”
We did manage to sneak in one phone call before the front act ended and it seemed like they were having just as much fun as we were. Everything in the world was as it should be. We were happy and ready to rock, the kids were happy and ready to go to bed after one more game of sungka. I suppose that I am now also in the “teen years” of my parenthood in that this could be as good as it gets. While there, of course, continue to be the normal parenting frustrations, the children are already at an age when they can be more independent but still young enough to follow 90 percent of what we tell them to do. I hope that the percentage will at least not go below 50 percent when the time comes for them to lay claim to music that will define their teenage years just like we did. But not yet. It’s still too early for that kind of nostalgia. They’re still our babies for a few more years.
Some philosophers say that nostalgia is about remembrance, more specifically, the remembrance of something that is no longer there. Strangely, it is this very reality that probably gives nostalgia its most powerful allure. And more than a place, person, or any other thing, it is about a lost time. But no matter how much we try to recreate it, our youth is gone forever. Yet even if I could magically go back in time, I don’t think I’d really want to be 18 all over again (or even 30 or 40), at least not in the psychological sense. I am where I am and there is really no sense in going back, only forward. I may not know what the future brings but as the very name of this fabulous band suggests, I just need to let go of my fears by not being afraid to feel. Tears for Fears.
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