“The Secret World of Alex Mack,” Weird Al Yankovic and Ty Beanie Babies. Chances are that at least half of the people reading this found themselves nodding excitedly and thinking to themselves, “Shit! I remember that!” As for the other half, I pity you. Songs like “Pretty Fly for a Rabbi” and “Amish Paradise” are building blocks for a strong musical palate. And if you never tuned in to “Alex Mack,” you probably also missed the wonder that is “Salute Your Shorts.” I would cry for you, but unfortunately my annual cry was spent on my joyous discovery that Freebirds had begun to take credit cards.

The other day, I was channel surfing and happened to stumble upon the Games and Sports (GAS) network that plays reruns of old Nickelodeon game shows. I watched for the next four hours, completely neglecting my two midterms the next day and the starving children in Africa I probably should have been finding a way to feed. I was sure that once my housemates got home they would begin mocking me, but, instead, they joined me in watching a riveting episode of “Legends of the Hidden Temple.” Despite the slight creepiness of watching eight-year-olds being exploited on national television, I afterwards realized something very important.

Americans are ridiculously nostalgic. We will save anything that has any sort of meaning, no matter how insignificant. Saving corsages from high school prom is a prime example. Did I have fun at this overly chaperoned, alcohol-free, awkward event laden with shitty KC & Jo Jo songs? Probably not, yet I still have a withered object that looks like feces garnished with satin ribbon stashed away somewhere in my desk. If someone tried to throw it away, thinking it was perhaps a health hazard, I would be forced to roundhouse kick him or her in the mouth