It is hard for me to wrap my mind around the concept that because this is 2011, the 1980s were 30 years ago. I always think of them as being 20 years ago. But now it is the 1990s that were 20 years ago. If it matters.

You know how you can look at a picture or movie or TV show from the 1960s and know it's then because of their clothes and hair? Even the '70s are distinctive for me with the mini-skirts, and long hair on young men. I can date those easily but I struggle to remember the look of the 80s versus the 90s. I guess one of those decades there there were the big shoulder pads in women's suits, and that big curly hair, and the big glasses frames, but I can't look at an advertisement and instantly know it is from 1985 versus 1995.

And yes, I can see the difference between a 1984 Buick and today's cars, but show me a 1984 Buick next to a 1994 Buick and I'm pretty sure I couldn't tell you the years. Back in the good old days of the 60s and 70s the American cars changed design every year, and we could tell the makes, models, and years at a glance. Then the imports came along, most notably the VW Beetle, and the designs didn't change as quickly.

During the 80s and 90s we were 30 and 40 years old and working. Our life was a plodding routine of going to work, sometimes working long hours, and going home to get ready for the next day. Weekends were barely long enough to rest up for the workweek ahead. So those days run together in my memory.

Naturally, I remember big historical events like the Berlin wall coming down, but forget what year it was, and am not bothered that I forget. Don't bother telling me, it doesn't matter to me. I don't suppose I'll ever forget September 11, 2001, but that's partially aided by the 911 of it. I have forgotten the exact day of the Kennedy assassination, but have retained the year and I do remember where I was and what I was doing when I first heard about it. As far as that goes, I remember watching the Berlin wall being erected on television sometime in the 1960s.

I don't attribute this forgetfulness to old age; I never was good with dates. For the first ten or so years that I was married to Mr. Troutbend, I couldn't remember what day his birthday fell on. It used to be printed on the back of his work badge, and when April came around, I'd look there so I could get the date right. Fortunately it's later in the month, because if it was the second or something, the day would be gone by before I realized it was the new month.

Here is an interesting cloud formation from the other day. We don't see these castles in the air right here, the rain clouds in my sky here are usually lower and grayer when they move in.



Now that I mention it, I do remember it was in the 1970s that I would drive long distances on the interstate along Colorado's Front Range and marvel at big thunderheads like these over the plains, tinted by the sunset to pinks and golds.