I got an e-mail news article today from my alma mater -- apparently, students from ASU are auditioning (is it an actual audition?) for the 20th season of The Real World. I realized I remembered when the first season of the show was on, when "reality" TV was something of a novelty. I don't know what season I thought it was in. Ninth, tenth maybe? Maybe not on anymore. Certainly not the 20th season.
Now I know the nostalgia bit is as old as getting old itself, and I was a child during the 80s, grew up in the 90s, so I really shouldn't be able to indulge in this yet. But it seems no one is young-ish anymore; you go right from young and hip (well, I was never hip. I don't think the word "hip" is actually hip either) to being outright old. I'm currently reaching some of those you-know-you're-old milestones:
Even those places that say "We card everyone" no longer card me. It only seems worse when I look at signs that read "You must have been born after this date to purchase alcohol or cigarettes..." and both of the dates are in the 80s.
People my age have been running for public office for a few years now.
I no longer listen to music stations. It's public radio and audiobooks all the way.
On the rare occasions that I do tune in, I find myself switching over to variety stations that play "older" music. I actually heard REM and The Police on an oldies station, for heaven's sake.
I can't seem to find any clothes that appeal to me in any sections younger than careerwoman-style areas. I don't even like the music -- is it music? -- that they play in those sections.
I realize the "Iran Hostage Crisis" doesn't only refer to events of recent weeks.
I am frequently referred to as "Ma'am." From behind, no less. Apparently, I have a Ma'am ass.
I've found myself saying, "We'd better get home before it gets too late. It's already 8:30."
I remember when no one carried cell phones, and also when the few you saw were those giant bricks that required two hands and a back brace to use.
I remember when you used floppy disks -- that were actually floppy -- and had to manually close the disk drive and take a nap while the program loaded.
TNT has run some of my all-time favorite movies, as "New Classics." Classics?
My son describes a record player as such: "It lets you play these things that look like big, black CDs."
Events that happened in my lifetime, and not just Iraq, have been in history books for several years.
High schools apparently now have "80s dress-up days."
There's a poor cover or three to nearly every song I grew up with.
We were mentioning professional wrestlers to make a point in conversation. I put in: "Bruce The Barber Beefcake! The Ultimate Warrior!"