WHEN I WAS 21: The ’80s: Still under construction

Conventional wisdom says that turning 21 is some kind of life-changing moment: we’re supposed to have all our ducks in a row by then, be ready to face life’s challenges with a fully-formed personality and a youthful determination.

Yet many of my generation, turning that vaunted age sometime in the mid-‘80s, had little idea where we were going or what we were doing. We didn’t have the Insta-Glow sheen, the sense of entitlement that seems conferred on youth today. Instead, we felt the cold breath of reality (it was the Reagan Era, after all). Paying off student loans was a matter of concern, I recall. Landing a job, fresh out of college, seemed like a logical step. My only surviving photo of that period (I must have had some quasi-primitive fear of cameras back in those days) shows me settled down at my desk in my first office job, cutting up galleys for a monthly magazine somewhere in rural Massachusetts. I think the photo was taken to prove that I actually did show up at the office on occasion. (“Galleys,” for puzzled denizens of the Pagemaker age, were printed strips of typeset text. It’s how old-fashioned magazines were laid out.)

What strikes me now is that I look little different in the photo from the way I am today: sure, I’m older, and creasier; my waist is more expansive. But I dress the same way, my barber is apparently the same guy, and I have even retained the same slumped posture in my chair. I’m not sure if this can be called “progress.”

Anyway, we had some fun back in the ‘80s. Being 21 was a good — if unformed/uninformed — time. Hey, at least we had the music. We got to experience the ‘80s schlock the first time around — before it became a retro trip. In those days, I made a conscious effort to avoid watching MTV and music videos (I was — and still am — a snob). But I was a DJ for the college radio station, which allowed me access to walls and walls of vinyl, and free entry to most music clubs in the Providence and Boston area.

Come to think of it, being a card-carrying college DJ was my biggest claim to identity at the time. Not that anyone listened to my shows: I sometimes did the “graveyard” shift from 2 to 6 a.m. in the morning (my highlight was playing The Jesus and Mary Chain’s debut album “Psychocandy” over and over again for four hours straight). My lunchtime show, meanwhile, was marked by a dearth of phone calls; perhaps all the listeners were out at lunch. And I had a Sunday afternoon jazz show that was so peaceful, it barely kept me awake through the Sonny Rollins records.

But this is what being 21 is about: finding out what you like, and what you may (or may not) be good at; but never pausing long enough to say, “I’m done. That’s it for me.” There were other worlds to conquer. I quit the magazine job after less than a year, moved away from my college, and hence said goodbye to college radio.

But I found so much more out there. It was very comforting to realize it was not going to be all downhill after 21.

Hats off to The Philippine STAR, on its 21st birthday! At least you’ve had your ducks in a row, your personality fully formed, and your youthful determination from Day One.