Too old for this shit
I was born in the Age of Aquarius, but I missed the Summer of Love by one year.
On Saturday mornings I watched "Super Friends" (before and after the introduction of the Wonder Twins), "Zoom," "The Electric Company" and all those acid-inpsired shows by Sid and Marty Krofft That explains a lot, right?
I remember the creation of HBO, and the monstrous antennas on everybody's roof tops that preceded the advent of cable.
The Iran hostage situation was the first big news story I actually followed, but I also remember watching live when Nixon flew away on that helicopter to escape impeachment.
I remember Gerald, Jimmy, Ronny, George I, Bad Billy C and W, much as I would like to forget that last one.
I also remember reading an article in "Popular Science" when I was about 11 or 12 on predictions of a wonderful, futuristic gadget they called a "cell phone." VCRs cost more than $1,000 and required a forklift to carry. So did the guide to operating them.
Suitcase computers were cutting edge. My high school computer club studied basic DOS commands, "go to," "run," shit like that, not for background, but because that's all there was. And floppy disks were still floppy and half a foot wide.
We were working with Lotus and stuff like that when I was in college, but Windows, version 2, was released in my second year there.
The movie from which I took my screen name had achieved infamy because it included a juicy, bi-racial sex scene with an actress who had previously starred in television's No. 1 family comedy.
I'm starting to receive regular letters from AARP reminding me that I'll be eligible for membership soon. Very, very soon.
So I'm old, too old to be here, perhaps. But don't call me grandpa.
I never had to walk 20 miles to school, barefoot, in the snow. I grew up in the South and, as most of you know, we don't go to school here.