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June 13, 2006

Ring the bell: school's in, sucka.

Home at last. Home means hanging out with Michele, and hanging out with Michele means complaining to her about how old we are getting. "Do you realize," I said, "that there are freshmen in high school now who were born in nineteen ninety-two?"

Those of you inclined to lust after the younger generation (you know who you are) should pause and take note. These children believe "Ray of Light" was Madonna's best album. The only Prince they know is that lovable scamp William or the rebellious young Harry. Metallica is a shade of nail polish. To these fragile flowers of the schoolyard Michael Jackson is just another creepy old white guy from Santa Barbara.

These kids read the first Harry Potter books at the correct age to read them. They have no idea why pricey designers make clothes that look like they came from thrift stores. Not one of them can spell out "you are," "laugh out loud" or "please."

Perhaps most distressing is the thought that had the Moms not gently talked me out of sleeping with a certain Goth in high school, I could conceivably have given birth to one of these children. Even now we could be having screaming arguments about her wardrobe. (Me: Do you really have to wear pants that show your entire damn thong? Why don't I just buy you some assless chaps, would that make you happy? Oh hell. Just get in the car.)

My only comfort is the thought that perhaps some of my older-than-me friends will read this and be disgusted. Do you realize, they will say, that this kid was born in nineteen seventy-nine? Music does not begin with Madonna, you know. Why, when I was her age...

Whatever, grandpa. If you'll excuse me, my ten-year reunion is coming up; I really don't have time to stand around chatting with you.

Posted by didofoot at June 13, 2006 11:08 AM

Comments

I'm reading letters this Chabot dude wrote in the 1920's-40's. I feel pretty young right now. And delighted by the superiority of the computer over the typewriter. Jesus. Also vaguely horrified by the content of the letters. It's all, "stars! charts! telescopes!" and I'm all, "war! WAR WAR WAR!" These people are single-minded and possibly oblivious of things happening on Earth since all they seem concerned with is the ugliness of Martian women. Snicker, that article was amusing.

Posted by: michele at June 13, 2006 12:00 PM

I know I'm a young'un myself, but there's no generation gap between us you can claim, so:

Why do pricey designers make clothes that look like they came from thrift stores?

Posted by: BD at June 13, 2006 01:25 PM

Though we don't have children, it's like all of our neighboors have traveled back in time and across space to your rhetorical future conversation and taken you up on your rhetorical offer with a resounding, "Yes. Yes. Buying me assless chaps would make me happy."

Posted by: gene at June 13, 2006 01:41 PM

[THIS COMMENT CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE "BATMAN BEGINS."]

Meli and I watched "Batman Begins" the other night, and after the sequel-setup ending I wondered if they would actually make a sequel, and noted that it might be awkward for Warner Bros. to release another Batman vs. Joker movie after having released the original "Batman." Then I realized that, by the time a "Batman Begins" sequel came out, the original "Batman" would be at least 20 years old. Chew on that for a while, kids. I mean grownups.

Posted by: holohan at June 14, 2006 08:01 PM

i discovered today that my internship boss is only 28. but she's like 50% more grown up than me even though i'm 27.

Posted by: michele at June 14, 2006 10:04 PM

awww. you guys are so cute.

signed,
grandma "biceps" miller

Posted by: tracy at June 19, 2006 02:24 PM

i had metallica's "no life till leather" demos before "kill 'em all" came out. i am officially old. school.

Posted by: ian at June 19, 2006 10:24 PM

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