Born in 1988

Back in 1988, life felt like it was moving at just the right speed, usually soundtracked by the tinny warble of a Walkman or Rick Astley blaring from every shop doorway. It was the year of the "Summer of Love," though most of us were just trying to master the art of the Yo-yo or pestering our mums for a Nintendo NES that usually stayed behind glass in Boots. I remember the air feeling thick with the smell of Charlie perfume and those first lukewarm cans of Kaliber.

Everyone was glued to *Neighbours* at 5:35 pm—literally the whole country stopped to see Scott and Charlene head off into the sunset. If you went to the cinema, you were likely queuing around the block for *Who Framed Roger Rabbit* or *Die Hard*, clutching a bag of Kola Kicks. There was that strange, lingering chill from the "Big Freeze" earlier in the year, but by the time the Seoul Olympics rolled around, we were all convinced we were world-class sprinters.

It wasn't all sunshine, of course—the news was full of the Lockerbie disaster and the grim shadow of the poll tax—but down at the local, life was simple: a pint of Stones, a packet of Scampi Fries, and the hope that Kylie would stay at number one for just one more week.