Not a small amount of us millennials – you know, those twenty-something losers that can’t do anything productive for society – remember those sibling battles over the three-pronged mini pizza stand that came in the middle of your family pizza pie. The death matches where someone would always end up crying. The ones where your older sisters would say something along the lines of, “Hey twerp, you better not touch that pizza stand” or “You’re never gonna be on Guts” or “Your couch forts suck dick.”
As intense as those memories may be, does nostalgia over childhood things take priority over the simple joys of pizza? Is nostalgia tricking us into wrongfully inflating our love of pizza?
Criticisms over our generation (I say “our” because I assume few grandmas read this site, though they’re welcome to. GRANNIES, READ THIS SITE!) are overstated. Yes, it’s annoying when 19-year-olds wax sentimental about the Power Rangers simply because those movies are old and they remembering watching them. But believing that “kids these days” are somehow more nostalgic than any other generation is like arguing that old hippies clinging to the ’60s don’t exist and no one ever pined for the good-ol’ days.
At any rate, there’s a huge difference between pizza nostalgia and Saved By The Bell nostalgia. Saved By The Bell was terrible. Blossom: terrible. Beanie Babies: terrible. Howard the Duck: loved it, but terrible. Fruit Stripe Gum: that was okay. Just because something is old doesn’t make it any better than current crappy things.
Some food can be heightened by that nostalgia, too. Had a Fun Dip any time recently? How about the clown sundae from Friendly’s? Thoughts on fish sticks? Well, they all aren’t nearly as good as we remember from our childhood.
Which brings us to the conclusion that pizza must supersede nostalgia. Pizza looks into the face of the past and bellows a conceited laugh, as if to say, “I am God yesterday, God today, and God forever!”
And that’s true. Every pizza eaten is exponentially better than the last pizza eaten. No pepperoni, no matter how clumped together in one spot on the slice it is, is worse than last week’s pepperoni. No amount of dumb, horrible opinions Papa John spews out on a weekly basis can damage the glory of a piping hot pie. Nostalgia can’t taint pizza. In reality, it can’t impact it either way.
So, millenials and grannies, enjoy your pizza while living in the moment. Treat each bite as if you’ve just conquered the Crag. Just don’t wear a Purple Parrots shirt while you do it.
 Listen, nerds, I know Power Rangers was a show, too. Take it easy.
 Taint pizza is both underrated and delicious.