I remember hearing a song with my dad once and naming the band. We must have been in a store or something - I don't think I was somewhere "tuning out" with my dad. "It's The Cure," I said, "I really like them." His reply was classic, "They are called 'Penicillin'?" For the young whipper-snappers that is what they used to call penicillin back in the day because once it was discovered it could cure anything. They didn't know that my smokin' hot wife would be allergic to it.
What frightens me is some day I will also be trapped into references so ancient that nobody remembers them anymore. "Where's the beef," I'll ask with a knowing grin to which they will reply, "Gramps, it's blended in with your strained peas."
Growing old is bittersweet.
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