On how there's no Sonic nearby and 23 yr old women are now out of bounds

I don't want to beat this 'man am I getting old thing' to death. With luck, I'm still on the 1st half of this ride. I'm repeating that like a mantra nowadays.

But there were three legitimate moments this week thatconfirmed how far I've travelled since the nostaligic - and largely illusionary - glory of my youth.

About this time last week I was talking on the phone to a woman my own age about a couple who was also our age. She was aghast that they were splitting up.

"X left her for another woman. A MUCH younger woman. It's disgusting - she's like 23!" she said.

Okay, first of all, I felt like saying "Go X!", except that would have been neither diplomatic nor keeping in line with my pseudo-Alan Alda exterior.

I do object to the whole 'breaking up a family and leaving the wife and kids' thing.

But when did 23 year old women become verbotten? Did I miss a memo? Now the're not only out of [theoretical] striking distance but the age gap is so great that people look at you like you're Woody Allen at a middle school?

Really???

The second and third moments came yesterday. I took YaYa to my old alma matter after work yesterday to buy a MP3 player from a guy on Craigslist.

First, the directions he gave me made no sense. He was using campus landmarks, but they'd all changed since my day. The bookstore went by a different name, Wendy's was closed, Bodolino's, home of the infamous 'keep the [9 cent] change' incident, was gone. I understood him, but in the way you understand your own toddler; because I could piece together what he was trying to convey and ignore the gibberish.

When it came time to buy the MP3 he encouraged me to try it out. I did - try that is. He gently intervened and patiently walked me through the process of turning it on and listening to a song. I felt like I was having someone teach me how to tie my shoes.

[which come to think of it, is something I had massive trouble with in kindergarten and still find difficult. Not a day goes by without someone stopping me and saying 'you're shoe's untied'.

I had such high hopes for velcro shoes back in the day]

Then the kicker. Here's this kid that by appearance and conversation seems to be someone I would have hung out with in college, someone into 'alternative' music and -were he of age in '93  - massive amounts of flannel.

"I have some good albums on there. You're welcome to keep them," he said. Then he paused. He stopped and looked at me from head to foot, smiled weakly, and said:

"No, you'll probably want to go ahead and delete them."

I was heartbroken. "My God, I've never felt older in my life," I said.

He laughed, but 'twis true. 

Later that night, after a rousing adventure with Socialist, I went road-tripping with my best friend.

I had dreams of White Castle runs across the state border. 'Matter of fact, I'd mapquested directions to the nearest Sonic, located in Davenport, Iowa, more than 150 miles away, and the closest Jack in the Box, nearly 200 away.

Back in the day we'd have done it in one night and made it to class in the morning.

Last night? We drove around Milwaukee for awhile, and then ended up at a burger joint.

About a block and a half from my house.