What do you consider young? I was turning legal in '78 and I don’t remember ever hearing him called Johnny. But then again I don’t remember a lot of … um, so what were we talking about again?
Well, you know you can now use Google for translation. 
I remember when my mom wasn’t allowed to go into the bar to get my dad out so we could all go home after a Saturday afternoon of shopping in the big city.
We all joke about keeping the kids off our lawn, but when we bought our first house, I really started to understand that - it’s my LAWN, my YARD, that I put so much time and effort and money into - don’t just run all over it and break my flowers and snap twigs off my beautiful shrubberies. My postie drives me nuts - walks right through my flower beds in winter. Just because there’s a tiny bit of snow on them doesn’t mean you get to walk on my plants now. Some of those plants aren’t dead - they start up where they left off in fall. Plus, you’re compacting my soil, and soil is best for growing things when uncompacted.
There - have I met the entrance requirements for FOGI? 
I asked a kid not to ride her scooter on my lawn this week. Does that count? I mean, she lives next door, and I’m friends with her parents, so I didn’t want to yell and shake my cane at her.
When you get to be a certain age, you’ll understand the power of the shaken cane. You’ll learn that it can be used any number of ways that increase your physical prowess many times over. Oh, yes, one day you will shake your cane, and when you do, you’ll never stop!
Well, yeah, but I didn’t want to take the nuclear option right off the bat!
I’m afraid you just aint old enough to qualify as a full member of FOGIs as yet.
A crumb of comfort however: You seem to have the right approach but can I suggest you get a cane and practice shaking it at husband/cats/inanimate objects (including kids)
In a short while you’ll get the hang of it and after some time will derive great satisfaction simply from the act of cane shaking.
In the meantime we members of FOGIs will review your case and who knows you may be invited to join as an honorary member, if so you can expect a lapel pin and an inscribed copy of the membership charter, together with a small booklet of rules and regulations.
I recently acquired a cane with a dragon’s head that unscrews to become a sword. I am eagerly awaiting catching a kid on my lawn.
Pshaw, Our founder member had a cane wiv an 'orses 'ead 'andle
Are 'orses older than dragons?
Try these. You can fertilize the beds at the same time.
Motion on the floor: You can only be in the Fogey Club if you’ve ever snapped a 45 record in half trying to put the little yellow turntable adapter in.
'orses are real, dragons aint unless you count Komodo’s
Seconded, Girl Next Door but do get it right, it’s FOGIs
Sunday I purchased a pair of shoes with velcro “laces”. It wasn’t 'til yesterday that the full implication of that act sank in. Anyone know where I can get some white socks?
Wish I had my folks old 78 of Frankie Laine singing “Mule Train”. I’d put it on the hi-fi and cry myself to sleep. . . .
…I remember prices in shillings and pence. I did my sums on a slate, and my desk still had a hole for an inkwell. I used a fountain pen, though (I finally abandoned it in the late '80’s, but my mum still used hers years after.)
Shorts were the uniform for schoolchildren.
We had a lettered phone exchange (PIG-2930. Near Place Pigalle, in Paris). The telephone company typed your phone number and stuck it on the dial for you.
We kept maps in the car, and actually planned routes on petrol/gasoline company maps.
I wore Lacoste shirts when nobody in the US had heard of them. My mum bought Louis Vuitton purses and luggage at their store (Faubourg St Honore, I think? Don’t remember) before they were popular.
I remember 120 film as common. My father used it in the Rollei and Mamiyaflex while I had a cheap plastic “New York World’s Fair” (agfa?) camera that used flashbulbs
I remember being told, as a child, to remove my har indoors and while in the presence of a lady.
I recall being corrected for splitting infinitives.
You remember shillings and pence?
I remember groats
My grandmother had an old Brownie camera, where you looked down into the viewfinder and the images were upside down. I also remember when flashbulbs came out… and “instamatic film”.
No cane here. Suppose my membership is in doubt now… I wag my finger instead.
Anyone else remember the great smell of mimeographs? I loved that purpley, smudgey ink. Probably a carcinogen, but it had the best smell!
Oh, please, oh, please? I really feel like a FOGI! I’ve always been older than my peers. Oooh, and I’ve already got a cane–it was my great-grandmother’s!
I’ve snapped 45’s putting in the little adapter thingy. I have no idea about any new music, and I’ve not touched a game console since the original Nintendo. I yelled at someone in a theater to turn their cell phone off. Surely I qualify!
Oh, hell, let the old fart in.
Anyone else ever make 8-track recordings, and try to plan it out so that the “click-click” of the track change wasn’t in the middle of a song?
Or how about store bought 8-tracks where the song would fade out “click-click” and fade back in again.
Oh, or how about figuring out how to pry open a broken 8 track, splice the tape with scotch tape and then snap it back together again?
Good times.