Clark: Hanging around, feeling groovy

If we are to believe pop-culture watchers — and, gosh, why wouldn't we? — the current retro trend is a return to the 1980s.

Tragic, that.

Other than a couple of memorable TV shows, a handful of great songs, Live Aid and the advent of MTV, the 1980s might be the most vacuous decade on record.

OK, so MTV was pretty vacuous, too (See Duran Duran).

From a fashion and hairstyle perspective alone, the '80s should be regarded as a secondary Dark Ages. Shun the pastels, shoulder pads and mullets.

So while others might be revelling in a return to that decade, I'm going to stick with a nostalgic jaunt through the 1960s that I've been enjoying.

It started when I inherited my husband's iPod. He upgraded, so I took over his year-old Nano, which was new enough to plug into my car stereo.

(As a side note, it turns out my older Nano also could have done that with a simple Internet download that my 11-year-old son knew about. It's a sad day when you realize the boy you diapered and bathed and nurtured is more technologically astute than yourself. When, exactly, did that happen?)

The new Nano contained about four times the number of songs as my old one. Many of them remain. Many of them were deleted in a clean sweep of Mariah Carey, ABBA and the like.

But one playlist of songs that I not only kept but have embraced to an almost unhealthy level is a fine grouping labeled "920 AM".

Maybe you're aware of this dandy little radio station out of Ceres — also known as The Vine — that plays a range of nostalgic tunes from artists like Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, Barbra Streisand, Tom Jones and Dionne Warwick.

The playlist is a sampling of the kind of tunes spun therein. My obsessions include "It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones, "Sunny" by Bobby Hebb, "Downtown" by Petula Clark and "Take a Letter Maria" by R.B. Greaves.

Go ahead, mock away. I'm having too much fun to care.

Heck, I'd never even heard the names Bobby Hebb or R.B. Greaves, but I'd heard their songs. It's a little trip down memory lane right back to the purple-painted walls of my childhood bedroom, laying on the bed and listening to KFIV.

It's been a kick and half — and perhaps a tad frightening. On more than one occasion, I've had to resist the urge to tease my hair, don white go-go boots and glue on false eyelashes.

Not all the playlist songs are from the '60s, but those are my current attractions. It's striking how different some artists approached their songs then compared to today. Back then, there was much stunning emotion, sung big scale and earnest. It's as if every song could be fit into a Broadway musical.

Too many of today's artists seem to be aiming for mood music on a cheesy TV drama. (I'm talking to you, Mat Kearney).

Can't you just picture a Petula Clark look-alike standing on stage and belting out "Downtown" in the middle of a major production? Or an actress launching into "Do You Know the Way to San Jose" as she dances across the boards in a smart tweed suit and bouffant hairdo?

It's all I can do to hide the inevitable jazz hands that fly up while I'm motoring down the street.

Yes, scary.

But, again, loads of fun. Surely, at some point, I'll need to select a new playlist. Maybe I'll come back to the present day. Maybe I'll take a pit stop in the 1970s.

But I'm pretty sure any traipse through the 1980s will be short-lived.

My car is a no-mullet zone, after all.

Reach Scene editor Pat Clark at pclark@modbee.com.