Spoiler Alert: This post includes content from the April 29, 2014 episode of The Goldbergs:

Addiction.

It’s a seductive lady (or, in Erica’s case, a hunky neighbor) that peers over from across the room like a new arcade game being plugged-in, lit up for the beginning of an unforgettable string of nights together.

It’s new and fun at first, but, if you’re not careful, she’ll knock you right out of your senses. She’ll have you scrounging high and low (emphasis on low) to keep going.

Not even Abraham Lincoln can save you with his luck.

“A penny? Worthless, it’s the garbage of money!”

The video game arcade was archetypal of the 1980s and Adam and Barry were rendered as shocked as the reality that there were “high-definition” animations inside the games. The trouble is when this digitally mastered past-time translates beyond the doors of the gaming wonderland and overtakes your every thought and every reaction. So much so that your younger brother’s prized possession can be traded-in for scraps (well, fifty cents anyways).

What would Han Solo say?

Like a favorite arcade game, that first crush has the same effect in terms of dominating our every sense and every thought. An uncontrollable power unlike most anything else in this world, we are at the beckon call and mercy of our love. But, as Erica tragically discovered, that guiding light of her life that stemmed from a varsity jacket was as fickle as a coach’s starting lineup.

The break-up. The breakdown. The über rational and scientific indicator for knowing how to feel in situations like this.

“My mood ring’s been black for three days!” 

Let’s hop in a De Lorean with some Huey Lewis & the News and travel ~ 30 years into the future for a quick moment and see if we can discover the real “power of love.”

Living in the second decade of the 21st century virtually requires a digital footprint on a seemingly infinite grid. There are savvy gadgets, innumerable apps and convenient computers for the desk, lap and hand. The cloud is above us, next to us and in front of us (though sans a reliable, visible presence) every hour we allow that bright glow to permeate through during an intimate dinner conversation or while our eyes are attempting to close for the night.

There is always something to read, something to know and someone to text. Admittedly, the latter is a tremendous feature on our phones, bridging a communication gap with casual conversations here and there throughout the day.

Regardless, when did this happen? Why did we surrender ourselves to the pursuit of endless data? Collecting information is not good or bad in absolute terms, but it does distract us from the natural evolution of ourselves and our surroundings. Every so often, we need to break our technology-centric pattern and wake-up like it’s the 1980s, void of that bright shining light in order to refresh what “data” we really should be absorbing (do I really need to watch every interview with Steven Spielberg tonight?), experiencing and using to help ourselves and the people we care about.

Shouldn’t we be prioritizing our limited time with the people we hold dearest?

Ironically, whether in 2014 or 1980-something, we just need to unplug.

Sometimes, we need to open our bedroom window and yell at our former crush as he or she is chilling in his or her car with their “new love.”

Having a shouting sidekick like Beverly Goldberg doesn’t hurt either.

Plus, the wind can randomly and perfectly lift and hurdle a garbage can through the windshield of a former boyfriend’s car.

Strange how this phenomenon happens in almost every American neighborhood after a break-up…

The Goldbergs reminds us of a simpler time with entertaining stories of how we all struggle with life and our place in it (and the occasional addiction) during our most comically awkward years. Thankfully, human nature and our personal limitations eventually prompt us to turn off our gadgets for a little while or to realize the true price of pawning our younger brother’sMillennium Falcon for a couple plays at Punch-Out!! at the nearby arcade.

Turns out, it was a signed Moses Malone jersey (ouch!).

This personal awareness can also open the door for father Murray Goldberg to finally help his daughter in a very real way with her ailing, broken heart. It’s astonishing what can transpire when we allow someone to show us a helpful, glowingly inspiring alternative.

Like being on the receiving end of a punching bag, there are days when we couldn’t be happier to take a hit for our family.

Once again, The Goldbergs proved the ’80s was a fantastic decade with another heart-warming and entertaining KO.