Tell Us Something That Happened To You That Made You Feel Very Old.

Closed Captioning.
Damn actors all mumble these days, and all the Limeys, Scots and Aussies try to sound so friggin' authentic that I can't understand a thing they say except "wanker".
And half the Mercan movies are so loaded with sound effects and music that I can't even hear them mumble.
Bah...
I miss Cary Grant and Doris Day.
 
I'm pretty close to getting thirty and I feel like some sort of time capsule. My school friends and colleagues are married, have kids or are pregnant. The only thing different about me since I finished high school are two mising molars, I am in better shape cycling up to 100 miles a day when I go cross country, and my hair is about a foot longer.
 
Talking to a younger person from AT&T this week made me feel like the old codger that I am. She had no idea what an 8 party line was. I had to explain to her about how 8 families would share the same phone line with each family having their own signature ringtone. Ours was one long and one short. Private lines weren't available till the late 60's where we lived out in the country.

My parents still have a party line. They are the only ones left on it....
 
Three things. And not stealing audio's thunder...just sharing it.

I saw one of the latest photos of "The Stones", OK? :confused: Later in the day I picked up one of their first albums to play. :eek: I looked in the mirror for the last time today!. :(

End of story.


Q
 
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I turned 55 on Dec 27th and now my mailbox is full of advertisements from AARP.
Go for it. It can save you $$ and the magazine is fun to read. It makes you feel young. And, it's great to see how many famous people are just as old as us, or older.
 
Being old enough to realize people in their 20's just don't know sh!t. Darn kids with their 8-track music! Where is the old man ranting leaning on his cane smilie!? :dunno:
 
This is a joke, best told by a lady.

I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma, which showed his full name.

Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name who had been in my high school class some 40-odd years ago. Could this be the same guy that I had a secret crush on, way back then?

Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate.

After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School.

"Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang," he beamed with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

He answered, "In 1959. Why do you ask?"

"You were in my class!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, bald wrinkled, fat, gray, decrepit son-of-a-gun asked, "What did you teach?"
 
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