Old. It’s terminal. When you realize you have it, you deny it at first. You even try to fight it. I was at the grocery store checkout line and glanced over at the rack with all the tabloid magazines like People and I noticed two things: First, they only refer to people by first name (or couples by retarded hybrid names like brangelina). Second, I honestly didn’t know who the hell any of those “celebrities” were.
When Old hits you, it hits hard.
After it hits, you start to notice that you care a lot more about stupid things (neighbors driving too fast; HOA meetings; people blatently disobeying street signs; how bathroom sprays don’t adequately mask butt-stench; and so on). You also realize that “new” popular music is “just a lot of noise” and all rap songs are now created by people you’ve never heard of, “featuring” other people you’ve never heard of.
When Old hits, thoughts/comments like: “I remember when gas was $0.89/gallon” or “I thought popped-collar Izod shirts and man-perms were gay in the 1980s and I think they are even gay-er today” and “Dude, I have that movie on Laserdisc!” happen more frequently.
The best thing you can do when you know you have Old is to get a blog. At least then people can go back and read about how you told them so without having to actually say it to them, thus confirming that you are, in fact, OLD.
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