What a difference 30 years makes.

Like some of you, I was about my kid's age when Star Wars was released. I was a lot cuter, people were a lot nicer, and IMHO the world was a whole lot more fun, and a whole lot less complicated.

There were no episodes or expanded universe to concern ourselves with - just the pure, shiny-brand-new euphoria of falling in love with The Saga for the first time.

Your television set probably offered a choice of about three stations (and if there was a national emergency, or it was time for the president to address the nation, you had no choice at all!)

Your camera was operated with the simple pressing of one button.

There was no 'where will we enroll the kids for school?' debate - everyone just went to school in their own neighborhood, with same kids you probably played either kickball of tag with.

Almost every kid's favorite place to eat was McDonald's, and just about everyone listened to to the same station on their lil'transistor radio.

See? Simple.

And I'm glad I was there for it. I'm glad I'm old enough to remember my world filled with the unique pleasures that came along with a simple, unrushed childhood.

I just wish I could say the same for my daughter. Lately, it seems increasingly difficult to escape the Powers that Be that would gladly have my daughter looking more like she's 18 than 8. The supposed 'girls' clothing section in most stores contains nothing but what I like to refer to as 'hussy-in-training' fashions (Two words: J and Lo. And Baby Phat ain't no better). The radio is full of crap that basically amounts to a training manual for sex and drug use. Forget "Billie Jean Is Not My Lover" - last week when I went to pick up Girly-Wan from school, her male classmates were signing a recent #1 hit entitled "I Wanna #@%$ You" (I KID YOU NOT - this is actually the name of the song!!!)

As the wise jkelly recently said, "Come on - you're killing me" (my italics). After all, it seems like only yesterday that I taught this girl to use her Pull-Ups. Now it seems that every where I turn, the crap she is exposed to is literally encouraging her to drop 'em back down.

In light of all this madness, I wonder sometimes how long I will be able to keep my little girl on the light side of the Force that is youth (the dark side obviously being the dreaded adolescent years). One article I shared with my psychology class recently, entitled "Is 8 the new 13?", suggests what I have been suspecting for a while to be true - whereas most of us ferverently believed that the opposite sex had cooties until, well, puberty, these guys are being pushed into 'pre-adolescence' when they shoud still be playing red rover or stickball. They're in the mirror worrying about their hair at an age where most of our moms had to bribe us just to take a bath. They wear stuff I wore when I was in my early 20s, and still spent Friday nights at the club, instead of blogging with you fine people )

And it just gets worse as they move into middle school. (I can remember being a high school senior and being terrified that when I went to college, I would be the only one I knew who hadn't 'done it'. From what my freshmen tell me, that's the fear now most commonly held by kids going into high school.)

Oh, what a difference 30 years makes, for real.

I know I'm headed for an era where I am about to become a very unpopular Mommy due to the rules I impose in my household (no videos, no negative/misogynistic music, no make-up, no grown-up TV shoes . . . you get the idea.) I just hope against hope that there's a small chance she'll look back one day and realize I was trying to let her enjoy her padawan days for as long as possible, before the complex world of wanna-be-adulthood hits her head-on. I know it's gotta happen sooner or later, but despite what the rest of the world seems to be pushing for, I'm trying like hell to make it much later - like when it's supposed to be. She can be an adolescent after she's done enjoying the simple joys of being a child.

Am I being unrealistic? Maybe. Maybe every generation views their respective 'good old days' through rose-colored glasses. Even our girl Leia, when faced with the diplomatic headaches of trying to unite a post-Empire galaxy, once wished for the good old days, when the Rebellion had ralied against one common enemy, and disputes could be resolved efficiently with some 'aggressive negotiations'.

Maybe our good old days just seem good to us because we're so far removed from them that we've forgotten the sucky parts and cling instead to a nostalgic, and maybe idealistic, view of the way our lives once were. Maybe one day, in retrospect, Girly-Wan will have the same thoughts about the world she's growing up in now.

Even so, I'd still take tag, Wonder Twins and the Jackson 5 over the PSP, the Bratz, and the Ying-Yang Twins any day.

(MTFBWY all - especially those of you who are ancient enough to remember all the aforementioned good stuff!!!)