Beverly Hills, 90210

Currently airing weekends from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m. on FX - check local listings

DON’T KNOCK THE “O”!

Remember the first day of school? The girl who pulled up in her new BMW while everyone checked out her new nose? Or the geek who was trying way too hard to be cool and the new wholesome kids who transferred from some strange mid-western state? If you can’t remember, that’s because it didn’t really happen. It was “Beverly Hills 90210.”

Everyone bow down before the great Aaron Spelling. Worship him and how he’s entertained generations for the last thirty-plus years. How I love him even more with each subsequent rerun of “90210” on FX. My love affair with the alumni of West Beverly High is a recent one. Back in the day when “90210” was the most-watched show among my high school peers, I couldn’t have hated it more.

I graduated high school in 1994 so I was right up there with the “O” kids. Every girl had posters of Brandon (Jason Priestly) in their lockers, every guy wanted to be Steve (Ian Ziering) and make a Brenda (Shannon Doherty) and Kelly (Jennie Garth) sandwich. They were obsessed with the rebellious rich boy, Dylan (Luke Perry); the coolest guy in the B group, David (Brian A. Green); and the precious mouth-breather, Donna (Tori Spelling).

And let’s not forget Andrea (Gabrielle Carteres). When the show got big, every similarly monikered brainiac girl with no chance of ever getting laid except maybe by her geometry book began pronouncing her name with a new and exotic flair. Say it with me – ON-drey-AHH.

You do know that she didn’t live in the West Beverly school district. She lied to the school board because she wanted a quality education and access to better facilities and whatever. She must have lived in the 90212 district.

Yes, think back – Waaaay back – to 1990. When we folded the legs of our jeans to make room for our high top sneakers and big bangs were dying. You would race through your homework, call all your friends and prepare for the next installment of the “O.” You cried when Dylan and Brenda broke up. You were angry with Brandon when he cheated on Kelly.

Speaking of Kelly: she was raped, her parents divorced, she was burned in a fire, survived a cocaine habit, an eating disorder, a miscarriage, being dumped at the altar and so on and so forth. The show could have been called “The Many Crappy Things That Happen to Kelly, 90210.” Bless her heart.

I used to despise this cheesy show, but now that I am twenty-six and watching with a new perspective, I get so much more out of it. I’m a new woman. I stumbled across this tacky little jewel when FX was running episodes on weekday afternoons. I would race home from work to catch it. A burst of the “O” was as refreshing as a post-work cocktail. It’s currently confined to weekend mornings, but I still can’t miss it.

There’s just so much to love. Laughing at David trying to find rhythm and begging Donna to sue her plastic surgeon for her shoddy boob job. And I have so much sympathy for Dylan. Poor guy inherited a 100 million-plus trust fund, but still felt dissed because his dad was in jail and his mom kept nagging him to live with her in Hawaii.

When Brenda had a craving for shoplifting, she was still the bomb. And when the original cast grew tiresome, old Aaron jazzed things up with plenty of fresh faces. There was Oscar Winner Hilary Swank and the amoral sex kitten Tiffany “Fastlane” Thiessen, to name just a few. Cast members came and went like divorcees shopping at Neiman Marcus. Whatever happened to the super cool rocker who beat up Donna? Or Claire, the snotty roommate? Or that dude who lived on the boat?

I’m now so addicted to the “O” that Saturday or Sunday morning does not begin until I have reacquainted myself with the proud and pretty student body of West Beverly High. I even make poor Filmboy watch it. It’s my weekend morning routine, like making waffles or doing yoga. The show touches a soft spot in my heart because it brings to mind my carefree high school days.

Yes, I’m nostalgic for the nineties. Bear with me. I’m sentimental not because it was a great decade, but because it was my coming of age. Don’t tell me all you thirtysomethings don’t get misty-eyed during “Family Ties” or “The A Team.” This show recalls some really fond memories. After all, it was the time of Bill Clinton (and I’m proud to have voted for him), grunge rock and I was Keg Queen!

As much as I loved my adolescent years, nothing could hold a candle to teen life on the “O.” I guess growing up in Fort Myers, Florida makes me boring white trash because I drove a Toyota and watched my boyfriend skateboard on the weekends. If only I were that sexy when I was a senior in high school. But then again I was seventeen, not thirty-six.

Once the gang left West Beverly High, the show lost a lot of its charm. The college and beyond years just couldn’t cut it. The show droned on, lasting about three years more that it should have. It became even cheesier and more ridiculous. But now, I find comfort in this cheese. It’s like fine aged Brie. This is Beverly Hills, after all. No processed cheese food here.

Bless the “O.” Cherish the “O.” Every man and woman needs a good “O.” The stories and characters are a little too out of control, but big whoop. Just sit back with a low calorie milkshake and fat free chips, rock out to the opening credits music and enjoy. Re-discover your lost youth, even if it takes place in a fantasy world of too attractive, ultra-wealthy teens . . . well, except for that Andrea character.

Think what you must, but don’t knock the “O.”

In case you haven’t guessed, Loren Faust really likes watching “Beverly Hills, 90210” and other guilty pleasures on TV. She urges you to watch the show without being inexplicably drawn to the horror that is Tori Spelling’s botched boob job.
posted by Chris at 1:17 PM