More spice?

So today a little voice on the radio told me about this... Spice Girls Musical.. and I suddenly found myself gripping the steering wheel a little harder than was possibly necessary.

Is it wrong to be ridiculously excited about this? Like considering-a-trip-to-London-just-to-see-it type of excited? Probably.

The Spice Girls released their first album, Spice, in November 1996. I was nine years old at the time and therefore, hooked. In fact, I honestly don't know many girls born between, say, 1982 and 1989, who can argue otherwise. Those who do are most likely lying, and can probably still rattle off all five of the girls' nicknames at the very least.

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I once had a quite intense argument with my mother when she had the nerve to suggest the Spice Girls couldn't sing. Couldn't sing. "I can see their appeal, but you know they can't actually sing, right?" I was outraged. My friends and I spent hours watching and re-watching a recorded version of the Spice Girls: Live in Istanbul, arranging the lounge room into a stage, mirroring their moves and strutting.our.stuff. My nanna took a friend and I to see Spiceworld: The Movie and we treated (read: subjected) the whole street to a live rendition afterwards, complete with props. Even as teenagers, we mockingly dressed as Sporty, Posh and the crew for a themed semi-formal dance. The theme was 'movies', it was a stretch.

So why the enduring appeal? Not in the sense they should release new material, but rather why do many otherwise respectable 20-somethings break out a breathless version of the third verse of Wannabe, or shimmy through the chorus of Stop, with only the slightest of temptations and sometimes without even a sniff of alcohol? I suspect that my mum may have been on the money after all, and it certainly isn't the lyrical genius or the powerful beats. The Spice Girls were about the experience. They were a carefully selected, carefully engineered, preened and primped experience. They were fun. They looked like they were having a really good time, all of the time, and they had some catchy songs to boot.

For me, hearing the odd Spice Girls song instantly transports me back to that time, a more simple time, where learning dance routines and arguing over who got to be Baby Spice were the biggest worries of our day.

So will I be rushing to book tickets to London tonight? Probably not. Will I still be belting out Wannabe on my next road trip? Most definitely.

A double-edged sword.

You may remember I initially had quite mixed feelings about blogging. As it turns out, I still do. I am continually discovering new and interesting blogs written by the most everyday of people, yet I remain somewhat reluctant to emerge myself fully in this unfamiliar and oh so public world.

I have been devoting more time than is probably necessary lately to debating the merits of social media. Or more precisely, our current addiction to social media. Is this a passing phase, a patch of time on which we will look back fondly, but with barely disguised horror at that which we once deemed appropriate to share with the masses (19th birthday photos anyone?), or is this simply a transition into a more open, though not necessarily honest, way of living? I can say, with only a slight shudder, that I am now old enough to remember a time Before Internet. I'm quite glad I escaped the social perils no doubt associated with navigating Facebook through high school, and remember well the butterflies involved with ringing a friend's home number (yes, actual landline) and hoping against hope their older brother didn't answer. Now though, I can unfortunately admit that I am as addicted to social media as any self-respecting Gen Y would care to admit.

It starts with scepticism. Why would I need that, what will I do with it, when will I have time for it? First enticed by the pretty colours of MySpace, I added a few photos and debated the merits of one background song vs another. Then Facebook came knocking, what do we need that for, a friend and I asked, too confusing, too much work. University life soon convinced us otherwise and away we were swept again. A quick scan of my current tabs soon confirms I've been wooed time and time again.

I blame my phone. My iPhone to be precise. No longer shall we patiently wait five minutes for our bus to arrive, or our dentist appointment. Why wait patiently when you could organise a lunch date, upload a photo and catch up on Kate Miller-Heidke's backstage antics all at the same time? Of course, therein lies the benefit of social media, and also the addiction - convenience. I very much enjoy this convenience, the chance to learn something, to grab just a little bit more out of an already packed day, but at the same time a small part of it does not sit easily with me. Should I be worrying more about experiencing the moment, the present, instead of reading about it?

I am certainly not the first to have such worries, and surely not the last. Perhaps instead of worrying, it is enough just to be wary of it and treat social media for what it is - a chance to make real life more interesting, more engaging, and not, rather, to replace it.