He was on at 3 bells. At least that’s what I remember between the flashes of senility. Don’t worry you’re (we’re) still young un’s.
I see ponchos are back in style…and bell-bottoms that drag on the ground…and those smock tops…
I clearly remember the early 70’s when they were"in" before.
When you start posting threads like this… :D.
… Realizing that you’re now imposing the same rules upon your children that you loathed in your childhood (Early bedtime! Don’t cross the street without supervision! Don’t run in the house!)
… Listening to same music as those 20 years younger than you, but not feeling especially cool discussing it with them, since the last concert you actually attended occured a decade ago.
… Researching life insurance options, and in the process having to gauge how long you think you’ll be around. :eek:
This is why I am cleanshaven. I need all the dating help I can get.
(My beard, if I chose to let it grow, would be <shudder> sprinkled with grey. None of my other hair is, save for occaisional strands. I do not understand this.)
Crap. That’s the day I graduated from high school! :eek:
Move over and quit hogging the prunes, ya young whippersnapper!
At the University where I work, the local radio station we play has a morning 80’s trivia. The one day there was a question involving a short clip from the Max Headroom movie (I loved Max Headroom when I was a kid). It caught the ear of a young student there who exclaimed, “Ooo, I love Jim Carrey!”
I felt really old right about then.
Even worse … my parents weren’t even born then.
I remember when cars had chokes.
For gasoline there was regular and ethyl.
You knew a boxing match was big when it was live, on the radio.
Radios not only played music, they also supplied you with quite a bit of heat and light.
All tires had tubes.
Cars came standard with 3-on-the-tree.
Cigarettes were 35 cents a pack.
Live the dream, buddy. I hate shaving, a lot, so I’m going to stick with it. I’m rationalizing it by saying that I’m not trying to pick up attractive young women anymore, so I’ll stay as gray and hairy as I wanna be.
(Although the guy I’ve been seeing did point out today that he was dying the gray out of his goatee, and seemed to mention it a few times. Pointedly. I wonder if there’s some hint I’m not quite getting…)
While teaching class I frequently improv voices and imitations. Most of them go over majorly because I keep relatively current (and then some folks like Mick Jagger and Jack Nicholson are known by all). The other day I decided to demonstrate a really cool new database the school I work for just bought access to and I said, in an absolutely flawless Liberace, “Excuse me while I log into something a little more spectacular… hah hah hah…” Until then I’d been killing, but everybody just looked at me with a “the teacher just fagged out”* expression.
None of them knew who Liberace was. He died either before they were born or when they were in diapers. Oh God, we’ve raised a group of children without a concept of Liberace.
A sign of middle age: when I was young (19, early 20s) when I was broke at the end of the month I found myself living on canned soup, rice and other preservative laden $.39 per metric ton generic grocery store food. (Kids today wouldn’t remember “generic” items either would they?) Now that I’m closer to 40 than I am to 30 (or, for that matter, 35) and find myself broke at the end of the month I find msyelf dining out at nice restaurants because they accept credit cards.
*I’m gay, it’s allowed, no letters.
The first time I felt “old” (I was ~30!) was at the Sex Pistols reunion show in Houston (the Filthy Lucre tour). I was standing at the back of the room (I didn’t want to get gobbed on) and pervin’ on this girl, thinking about all the nasty things we could do together when she turned to me and said “Do you have a light, SIR?”, after lighting her cigarette I wanted to curl up on the floor. She looked like a potential sex partner to me and apparently I looked like an “old guy” to her, I was 30 and apparently I was acting like a “dirty old man”!. As I approach 40 I have become “invisible” to the hot, young babes, luckily they speak which makes this easier to handle (LIKESHESAIDBLAHBLAHANDTHENISAIDBLAHBLAHBLAHANDWESAIDWHATEVER!)
Unclviny
Fashion Tip: If you can remember wearing Hot Fashion Trend the first time around, you’re too old to wear it the second time around. 
Sigh… the good old days. An 029 keypunch and my yellow 360/370 Assembler booklet in my back pocket. “BALR 14,15” anyone? 
:eek: But, bibby, I can’t afford another new wardrobe!!
Which reminds me…I was ironing my “Dickies” skirt (anybody remember when those were fake turtlenecks you stuck inside another sweater?) and my 21-year-old son indignantly told me I could NOT wear anything “Dickies” because that was one of the clothing brands HE wore. :rolleyes:
Oh, Amen to that! I nearly dumped my best friend in year 19 of our friendship for that very reason; I wasn’t old enough to have known anyone for 20 years but my mama!
Well, thankfully I had a record player when I was young. My mom had a real one, and I had those little tiny kiddie records - remember those? I also know what Bullwinkle is, have used an 8-track.
I get the “ma’am” a lot these days from young punks. I’m not 30 yet, but I guess that’s the right age. Also, I started a thread around here about the grey hairs I’ve been getting.
With the brightly colored plastic records that played “Clair de Lune” and the like. Loved that thing.
At 28, I’m not getting a whole lot of “ma’am” yet, but I dropped something on the street recently, and the kid that picked it up chased after me, yelling “Hey, lady!” I think that counts.
About two years ago I was up in the number one tourist destination in Michigan, Frankenmuth, home of Little Germany and good chicken dinners.
Loads of kitchsy shopping, outlet shopping and stuff.
Anywhoo, I was buying some candy at Ye Olde Candy Shoppe gah and noticed that on the Olde Tyme Cashe Register there was a business card for the store with their area code correction.
I lamented to the teenage Cashe Register Girle that, " I remember when there were just four area codes to Michigan."
“Reeeeally?”
“Yeah. 313 was the Metro Detroit area. 517 was UP North ( meaning not where I lived and anyone who lived north or west coast Michigan.) 616 was da UP.”
Now because of the evils of cell phones, there has to be at least 5 area codes for the Detroit Area.
I think I overwhelmed this girl with that bit of nostalgia.
Oh, I just thought of one. There’s a popular song right now about some woman whose head is still stuck in 1985 (“Springsteen, Madonna” etc.) - okay, I feel old first of all because I don’t know what it’s called or who it’s by and for all I know, it might be like 5 years old and I’m just hearing it now. But, anyway it mentions how her kids think she’s uncool and all and they’re teenagers and I kind of think the woman in the song might even be younger than me - I was 22 in 1985 and I kind of get the impression that she was just out of high school or something. My kid was born when I was 35 so he’s not quite 6 yet but, according to this song, I could have teenagers who think I’m lame.