I've started getting all giddy over how much sick time I've got in the bank at work. Instead of day-dreaming about how much time I can take off from work and party, I keep thinking about how nice this will be in case I get really sick.
I took my girlfriend and her nephew out for lunch, and afterward, we hit the electronic section of the local department store, and he was marvelling at the new Curious George movie...and I told him that I used to love those books when I was his age.
My wife and I rented the first season of the Cosby show from our local Blockbuster. When I returned it, the clerk asked me how it was. I shrugged and said, "Eh, it was the Cosby show." And he says, "I wouldn't know. Before my time." Turns out he was born in 1987. Good lord.
I work at an adult establishment and have to card people all the time, so I see it a lot. In a few months, I'll be able to sell Playboys to people born in 1989. That's just stunning.
"Never piss off a hawk with a blowgun" - Conan O'Brien
There's a weather guy on the local news who I swear cannot possibly be more than fifteen.
Some wrestlers, too. It's weird to think of Mick Foley as a grizzled old veteran and then realize he's my age.
[edited to add:]
Just last night I got another reminder of my geezerdom. I was driving home after an errand and came upon pack of teenagers in costume. Among them: a blonde who had apparently decided to go as a streetwalker for Halloween -- tube top, microminiskirt, high heels. As I passed by, she stuck her thumb out and tried to hitch a ride off me.
And the first thing that went through my head: "Who the hell lets their daughter leave the house looking like that?"
(edited by Shem the Penman on 1.11.06 2012) "The object of persecution is persecution. The object of torture is torture. The object of power is power. Now do you begin to understand me?"