Some people look at the youth of today and worry about the direction we are headed in. Not me. I have seen the future, and I like it. At least three times in the past few weeks, I have seen young men wearing “Back in Black” t-shirts.

What does a few AC/DC t-shirts have to do with the prosperity of America? Everything, I say. A generation that does not respect the classics is a generation I don’t trust.

We have survived Eminem and countless other threats to the taste of our youth. We have taken a look at the latest female pop singer and had our fun before moving onto something else. We have even indulged Green Day, 311 and other power rock acts.

None of that matters. It all comes back to AC/DC.

People who know me may wonder why I’m not touting R.E.M. as the harbinger for all that is good and right and true.

But for all they have done for me, I realize that R.E.M. could never dream of accomplishing what AC/DC did in the 1980.

They wrote the perfect rock song. No song will ever match the glory that is “You Shook Me All Night Long.”

Admit it – you’re head is bobbing right now. You can hear that opening guitar lick. The drum is going to pound and you’ll have a hard time keeping yourself from nodding to the beat for the next few hours.

Perfection. And kids today have figured it out. Kids today know that we have a horribly divided country. People seem intent on putting labels on everyone.

The same thing was happening in 1980. The hostages were in Iran. The war on drugs was in full swing. Preppy fashion had started to rear its pink plaid head.

You were ether a preppy or a stoner or a freak. You either liked Bruce Springsteen, AC/DC or Devo. There was no middle ground. Society was doomed.

Then five guys from Australia, mourning the death of the band’s original lead singer, tapped into something that everyone could appreciate.

The preppies could do the overbite dance to the simple, yet powerful beat. The stoners could bang their head to Angus Young’s mesmerizing guitar solo. The freaks, well, they just had to like it because someone would beat them up if they bad-mouthed AC/DC.

The song didn’t just cross the gap of cliques. It united men and women. Guys could live vicariously through the song’s narrator. Even if you had no chance of being shook all night long, vocalist Brian Johnson could take you there for three-and-a-half minutes.

Women, on the other hand, could feel empowered. The woman in the song holds the cards. She’s the fast machine. She had him fighting for air. She made a meal out of him.

Poetry, I tell you. Pure poetry.

As a society, we may have a lot of things to complain about. We may not understand the death, despair and destruction that we see on television. We may wonder if today’s youth truly understand the challenges ahead of them.

Fear not. When you see those black t-shirts around you, the song will pop into your head. Carry that safe feeling with you everywhere. That’s how I sleep at night.