As a child of the 1980s who loves pop music, I have been stuck in limbo for too long. MTV targets teenagers half my age and VH1 focuses on artists who performed before I was born. 
   Finally, the latter network has bridged the generation gap with the fun new game show "Name That Video" (weekdays, 7:30-8 p.m. ET, beginning this week).
   Though prepubescent fare like "Total Request Live" still interests me, MTV commercials indicate the network could care less that I'm watching. I'm being bombarded by Stri-Dex commercials when I need Grecian Formula.
    Over on VH1, most "Behind the Music" subjects predate the '80s; that decade's rock representatives were too damned happy-go-lucky to be scuttling their careers on drugs and alcohol. My generational blackout is most evident when playing along with VH1 quiz show "Rock 'n' Roll Jeopardy," where I'm stumped only by questions about rock stars from the 1960s and '70s.
  Therein lies the beauty of "Video," a modern update of the classic "Name That Tune" TV series: There were no music videos before the 1980s. I'm able to identify snippets of music videos with alarming accuracy, and everyone knows the most enjoyable game shows are the ones you can dominate.
   Thanks to "Video," which bases the majority of its questions on 1980s music videos, a hidden treasure trove of great memories has resurfaced. For too long, the products of this fine decade only appeared on MTV and VH1 as the butt of jokes on "Pop-Up Video" or "Beavis & Butt-head." Funny how Day-Glo shorts and streaked hair teased to the ceiling seemed fine at the time.
   Now "Video" gives the '80s the showcase they deserve. It can't be a good thing for the world to have gone this long without seeing Pat Benatar in her prime.
     At this point I must disclose what is probably abundantly clear to anyone reading this article: I cannot possibly impartially review this series. I just get too emotional about any music between 1979 and 1990.
    What's best about "Video" is that the contestants share my enthusiasm for this forgotten era. When they are called upon to complete missing lyrics in the game's opening round, they sing the answers with a zest you just don't see on any other quiz show. At one point, host Karyn Bryant humorously warned one warbler that no one from the record industry was in the studio audience, so he'd be advised to cool it. Sing proudly, I say.
  But the extent of my mania doesn't fully blossom until the "Bid-A-Vid" round, where contestants can be called upon to identify a video they've glimpsed for just several seconds. 
   What truly amazed me about this round was that they needed to see the video at all; the answer is hinted at in the nifty clues that introduced the video. I knew that "Be Patient/Wish You Were Here" was John Waite's "Missing You" before a blip of the song even unspooled.
    My mastering of the show has its depressing side. When I reflect on how reflexively quick I am with answers to "Video" questions, I have to wonder what enormous percentage of my brainpower is devoted to such useless trivia. Had my parents simply kept me away from the TV for a few years, I would have undoubtedly won a Nobel Prize for something that could have benefited society.
    I have come to terms with the fact that my mind is marinated in 1980s music videos. I can no longer ignore what is obviously a gift that I should be sharing with the rest of America.
    So stay tuned to "Video" because I've done the only proper thing left for me to do: I've applied to become a contestant.

-Andrew Wallenstein is the television critic for Media Life.

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