It sucks to get old. This was brought home to me the other night in class. I'm taking this awesome (do people still say that? I'm so out of touch) class on Writing Humor, and a fellow classmate had turned it a hilarious essay about a game called Halo2. The game sounded so preposterous, I automatically assumed she was making it all up--after all, it was ridiculous, right? So we were critiquing, and everyone was talking about how she captured the feeling of the game--and I said, "Wait, you mean this is a real game? Seriously?" Everyone laughed, but the instructor (who is at least 10 years younger than I) made some comments about writing for an audience, and it was all good. Still, I felt ridiculous.

I think I got revenge this week, however. We are reading a piece on Keith Richards, and I am pretty sure most of the people in my class will either have to look him up or will miss some of the subtle references within the piece--references I get because I actually lived through the time, and Richards' memories are part of mine as well.

Yeah, it sucks to be old. Still, it all evens out in the end.