In my ''80s," Rick Springfield and Rick James could kick Rick Astley's ass...

We have all found ourselves torn between the desire to cling to what we have and know, or move on and readjust into a new way of life--the best thing is to go into the past and just stay there.

I have set my alarm clock for Hammer Time.

There is a marvel happening on the Internet called Rickrolling--it's a bait and switch on the URL. Type in "N.Y. Mets," and what you might be linked to is a video of '80s uberman-geek Rick Astley singing Never Gonna Give You Up.

It's a prank, it's disruptive, and it's a "catalyst" indicating how much the culture wants to go back to the '80s and have some fun again; Rick Astley is a portal to a time when the only victims were of fashion, when two-bedroom apartments were $385 a month, and George Lucas only had one neck. Sadly, that time is long gone.

But I have become so besotted with the '80s and having fun that I've unearthed my parachute pants, purchased a convertible Rabbit and am heading to Baja to sing Kokomo.

Does anybody have some 'ludes?

I've thrown out my BlackBerry and just bought a terrific new VCR at Sears. I am wearing more makeup than Dee Snider and am as AC-DC as Wham at a G.L.A.A.D. Picnic. I will astound you with my karaoke version of Jump in my minuscule shorts

On my wall, I have taped my Darryl Hannah poster. I find when I look at the frayed yellow paper I get sad, like a Richard Marx song. The other night I woke up with my sunglasses on.

I miss the time when all the realty shows were called Cops, and Matthew Broderick did all our fighting in War Games. When the Jackson Family made snakes popular as belts and all anybody wanted to do was run like Carl Lewis (before he was gay).

I want go back to the future, get into my DeLorean, hit 88 miles per hour, and drive into Bill O'Reilly's face.

These days suck: debt default, creeping cynicism, housing devaluation, hydrogenated oil, and plasma screens playing Entertainment Tonight and The Insider at the gas station, where you can fill up for just under 90 dollars.

How much Mariah Carey are we expected to take? And WHO is Kanye West? Give me Rockwell, Shalimar, or at least one of those De Barges. Sheila E, anyone?

The only films I will watch are Ordinary People, The Elephant Man and Ghostbusters. I turn up the collar on my Lacoste Izod shirt. I polish my penny and insert it into my loafer. When I say loafer, I don't mean my roommate, because I would never insert anything in that animal.

Friends have made every effort to get me to wear normal pants and make my hair smaller. What do they want me to do? Stay in this decade and continue listening to hip-hop with flat hair?

I certainly can adapt for the attitudes of different decades. I just happened to prefer '80s! I want my Farm Aid and I want it now.

I came over from N.Y.C with The MADONNA PARTY. It was tough. No cell phones. No Soymilk. No Spinning. Some days there was nothing to eat but sagebrush and her bra straps. But we made it through the wilderness (Madonna and I are the same age--187)...and I long for those times again.

Last week, I found myself at a break dancing class, and the only other person in the studio was the insignia of the artist formally known as Prince.

We hit it off and spent the entire afternoon rotating on our heads reminiscing about when Brian Adams was young and ugly.

"Rick rolling" takes us back to a gentler time, when porn stars had big bushes, Drew Barrymore was in the White House doing lines, and Arnold Schwarzenegger was full of deltoids instead of factoids.

So I say let the Rick times Roll!

We should all look forward to rolling back to the future when we had "asteroids" instead of "hemorrhoids" and celery Jelly Bellies instead of vitamin enhanced water.

Thinks are looking up...I just purchased a female chimpanzee and I am calling her "Man in the Mirror."

Gotta run. My manager, Ben Levine, just called to tell me that Glenn Close wants to use my two pet rabbits for a movie!

Awesome...Totally Awesome!!!