Oldies and Classics

Stephan and I climed into and out of a valley in the Shenandoah Mountains last Saturday. On the hike I narrowly escaped 2 twisted ankles and narrowly did not escape a deep gouge on my little toe (yes, I was hiking in sandals - I have for years and this is the first time I've bled for it. Oi).

We were both so surprisingly not hungry when we finally got out of the valley that we decided we could wait through the 2 hour drive home to get back to our local Red Rock Canyon Grill. Once there we ordered a salad and a pot pie, and Stephan asked me this:

"Ever wonder what books will be deemed 'classics' in 70 years?"

I ruminated. "I think Tolkien is definitely in," he supplied.

"Pshaw," I said. "Tolkien's as good as classic already."

"Probably true," he consented.

"I think the Da Vinci Code will be a classic" I said.

"No way," Stephan countered. "Things that become classics are things that are good enough to stand the test of time. Like Simon and Garfunkle, or the Beatles - they were good, and they've stuck around."

"They were also famous," I contended. "And the Da Vinci Code was famous. Beyond that, it rocked society. I can totally picture a high school English teacher leading their class through a discussion of the stir the Da Vinci Code caused in 21st century America."

"Hm..." Stephan said, not quite convinced. "I just don't think it speaks to the human condition. For instance, I think things like Tim O'Brian's post-Vietnam War writing will make it," he mused. "Actually, anything written after a war may make it, given that it talks of the rawest levels of humanity."

"I don't think those will be the only peramiters that will constitute a classic," I said. "Call me a sinic, but I still say there's a 'sticking factor' - something different from your 'good enough to stand the test of time' theory - that comes from just being popular, being something that people will remember by nature of viral recomendations and media hype."

"I'm not convinced," Stephan smiled.

I shrugged. "It's a different culture than when Collins and Dickens were writing. People don't want the same quality anymore, and they'll only want less in the future. They all just want to be entertained, not made to think."

"Perhaps," Stephan said. At this point we switched our plates, me having eaten half the salad and he having eaten half the pot pie. This is how we ate out, sharing everything. This is one of the reasons I love Stephan. He's always shared his food with me. "But back to 'standing the test of time'. Another thing to consider is the amount of writing out there these days because of how easy it is to publish, either in print or on the internet."

"True," I said, raising my eyebrows. "Yet, that probably supports my theory that only the things that gain clout virally will last."

"Nah," Stephan insistend. "There is a cultured remnant in the world today, dear." He inclined his fork toward me. "And we prefer Dumas and Simon and Garfunkle."

I paused, then smiled as I became aware of The Backstreet Boys playing in the background. "I still hold that the stuff that most of the stuff that will last is the stuff that is catchy and shocking...like that song Smooth by Santana - he called it a 'tattoo on your brain'. I think the Brain Tattoos are most of what will last." I paused as Backstreet Boys kept playing. "So, in a similar vain, what do you think will be playing on oldies radio stations in 70 years? Do you think rap will be the genre of choice among geriatrics?"

He laughed. "I think it'll be the stuff good enough to stand the test of time!" Stephan said again, unconquerable.

I smirked, loving his idealism. "And I think it'll be 'You're and Allstar' by Smashmouth."

Getcher game on!