Actually not. Last night Anonymous and I along with Mr. & Mrs. P went to dinner and a movie since it was Mr. P’s birthday. As we left the cinema after our foray into the world created by the legendary Roddenberry we noticed a huge crowd of kids. The cinema was packed it was opening day for a probable piece of crap Will Ferrell movie and another WhiteCastle/What-happens-in-Vegas/Knocked-up film. High-schoolers perhaps a few undergrads but nonetheless the cinema was buzzing with the sounds of teenagers. I was struck by the language not profanity but the Valley girlish dialogue of teens. I began asking myself “Was I really like that?” the answer was probably yes.
I was also taken aback by the fashion these kids are sporting a mix between the sad-neon-message-shirts of the 1980’s mixed with skinny-emo jeans on males with the crotch somewhere down between the thigh at least the shirt covered everything so no underwear was sticking out. Now I remember this junk from the 80’s and the early 90’s and yes I wore some of it but I hated then! I remember rebelling (due to the fact I hated the stuff and because we had no money to buy clothes) and wearing a pair of white pants my Mom had bought for me at the Goodwill (they were bell bottoms), we should have waited 20 years and I wouldn’t have been laughed at but hey it taught me to fight back (I generally call people names–I still make up nicknames on the fly for people) and not to care what people think. I remember really wanting a HyperColor when I was 11 and after they went out of fashion about 18 months later they were on-sale at Pic-N-Save my Mom bought me three remembering that I had wanted one but was unaware that they were no longer in. Not wanting to offend my Mom I wore them and put up with the teasing and perfected my “don’t give a crap what you say face/attitude”.
I was suddenly glad to be freewheeling down to 30 so I at least I can have an excuse to shop in the Grandma section of Gottschalks. If a teenager gives me lip about my fashion I can fire back “I’m old! Do you really want me in a pair of acid washed jeans and a ripped up T-shirt?” Also it was nearing 10 o’clock and I was ready to pass out. Staying out all night is definetly something for the young, Anonymous and I routinely go to bed around 8 on a Saturday…because we’re old farts. Ah to be young…I’ll leave it to the young.