It’s almost back-to-school time. And this is why I’m going.
It’s time to worry about something else going wrong in New York City… ’cause there weren’t enough things.
It’s time to feel old, courtesy of Beloit College’s yearly list. (That link takes you to last year’s list, which is also pretty amusing.)
To better understand how the class of 2007 thinks, read this and feel your age:
The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1985. (Okay, right off the bat I feel old, because I was seven in 1985, and people who were born when I was old enough to know what was going on have no business in college.)
They have no meaningful recollection of the Reagan era and probably did not know he had ever been shot. (I don’t remember him being shot.)
They were prepubescent when the Persian Gulf War was waged. (Me too: I was in seventh grade.)
There has been only one pope in their lifetime. (I only remember one Pope, but maybe I wasn’t paying attention.)
They were 10 when the Soviet Union broke apart and do not remember the Cold War.
They are too young to remember the space shuttle blowing up on takeoff. (I was watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.)
Tiananmen Square means nothing to them.
Bottle caps have always been screw off and plastic.
Atari predates them, as do vinyl albums.
The statement “You sound like a broken record” means nothing to them: they have never owned a record player. (Me neither.)
They have likely never played Pac Man and have never heard of Pong.
They may have never heard of an 8-track tape. The compact disc was introduced when they were 1 year old.
They have always had an answering machine.
Most have never seen a TV set with only 13 channels, nor have they seen a black and white TV. (Every time I make dinner I watch a 13-channel black-and-white TV!)
They have always had cable.
There have always been VCRs, but they have no idea what Beta was. (Beta was the thing that made my uncle curse about how much money he wasted.)
They cannot fathom not having a remote control.
They don’t know what a cloth baby diaper is or know about the “Help me, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” commercial. (Poor kids. I loved that commercial.)
They were born the year that Walkman was introduced by Sony.
Roller skating has always meant inline for them.
Michael Jackson has always been white.
Jay Leno has always been on “The Tonight Show.”
They have no idea when or why Jordache jeans were cool. (Neither do I. That’s not an age thing.)
Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave. (I remember popcorn in a big stockpot… but I wasn’t old enough to do it myself so I have no idea how that craziness worked.)
They have never seen Larry Bird play.
They never took a swim and thought about “Jaws.” (Me neither… I still have never seen it.)
The Vietnam War is as ancient history to them as World War I, World War II and the Civil War.
They have no idea that Americans were ever held hostage in Iran.
They can’t imagine what hard contact lenses are. (Hard contact lenses were the things that made my father curse in pain.)
They don’t know who Mork was or where he was from. The correct answer, by the way, is Ork.
They never heard: “Where’s the beef?”, “I’d walk a mile for a Camel,” or “De plane, de plane!” (I never saw any of that stuff till “I Love the 80s.”)
They do not care who shot J.R. and have no idea who J.R. was.
Kansas, Chicago, Boston, America and Alabama are places, not bands.
There has always been MTV.
They don’t have a clue how to use a typewriter. (I used to love banging away at the keys on the old, non-electric typewriter we had when I was little.)