C all it "1970s: The Sequel." All around us--from bellbottoms and platform shoes to huge, scary sideburns, from movies like "Dazed and Confused" to "My Girl ," from Lenny Kravitz to the return of "disco-mania"--the 1970s are back.

What paradox. Up until a couple of years ago, the consensus was that the 1970s were a bad joke that Father Time had mercifully put to an end. Everyone was very happy to have escaped from those days, of malaise.

But now those same people are cuddling up in front of the TV to watch, teary-eyed, as Yoko Ono and Paul McCartney finally embrace, or to see miniseries like "Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City." a romantic tribute to 1970s San Francisco.

Though I am a San Francisco boy, I didn't want to see "Tales of the City," and I don't want to see a revival of the 1970s. Nostalgic as I may be for the pair of "Mork from Ork" rainbow suspenders I used to wear, I don't want to see the 1970s hailed as a so-called "simpler time," when everyone was innocently experimenting with sex, speed, and socialism.

I seem to be in the minority. Although the public rejected the TV comeback attempt of 1970s favorite Chevy Chase--who opened his first show's "news" segment with the decidedly retro line "Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead"--there is an almost insatiable appetite for 1970s-esque stuff. The founders of the "1970s preservation Society" and other entrants to the booming "nostalgia industry" are striking it rich. You may not own a lava lamp yet, but you probably will soon.

Of course, "1970s: The Sequel" is intertwined with the general leftward tilt in American politics.

Environmentalism and women's rights (remembers when ERA stood for more than a baseball statistic?) are once again in vogue, not least among grungy rock musicians and movie stars. The election of Bill "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" Clinton heralded not only the ascension of a Vietnam War protester to the White House but the reunion tour of 1970s heart-throbs Fleetwood Mac. And those who wear platform shoes are most likely supporters of the Democratic platform--if not of something further to the left.

Perhaps you are beginning to imagine that my revulsion to the return of the 1970s has its basis in politics. Perhaps you are beginning to conceive of me as a stuffed shirt, a conservative, a Republican-in-training.

Well, I am a registered Democrat and I hate wearing suits, but don't let that confuse you. Go with your preconceived notions. I'll make things easier for you and plead guilty as charged.

But if I'm conservative, what is the cult of the 1970s? Is a movement that attempts to turn back the clock 20-odd years "progressive"? What does it say about progressivism's future that its most successful aspect is a revival of the past?

Worse yet, "1970s: The Sequel" has, like most Holly-wood productions, sanitized and sentimentalized that decade. The 1970s revival tells Americans they weren't really just looking for sex--or if they were, it was because they had really gotten into Indian philosophy, They didn't really throw up after binging on booze and pot--or if they did, it didn't feel all that bad. They didn't really vote for Reagan in 1980--or if they did, it was because he confused and manipulated them.

Of course, it is our generation--which didn't have sex, booze, pot or voting rights in the 1970s--that harbors the worst nostalgics of all. How odd to be sentimental about a past we didn't experience but that millions of eyewitnesses agreed wasn't worth experiencing. That says something about how low an opinion we hold of the present.

All right, so our generation's problems and poor prospects have brought about this bout of nostalgia. Yet instead of taking the logical next step, we have recoiled from it.

We may have adopted the look of 1970s progressives, but our attitude toward today's politics bears little resemblance tot he idealism that characterizes progressives. After the 1992 presidential campaign, "Change" is a cliche, not a goal. Our voting rates are dismal, an our activism--our activism?

Progressive as we may feel when we look at ourselves in the mirror, as the old saying goes, clothes do not make the man (or women or androgyne). All the 1970s-era "accessories" merely serve to obscure our hollow core.

We have lost the belief that we can make a difference. How unlike the passionate 1970s public which spoke out on issues like Watergate and the Vietnam War, How unlike our bellbottomed, long-haired, Elvis-worshiping 1970s looking alikes.

Perhaps I am exaggerating. Perhaps we can enjoy 1970s culture in an apolitical way. Bellbottoms are not inherently unattractive. "YMCA" is a catchy tune. And "Saturday Night Live" has never been as good as it was in the glory days of the 1970s.

But there's no use in continuing to look backward. It's time to cease this constant rehash of the past. It's time to create new styles, new music, new ideals, new movements.

I might like my old rainbow suspenders--but they just don't fit me anymore.