On getting old(er)

I often tell my wife, "The fact that I'm not as old as I'm going to get in no way mitigates the fact that I am already old." Sort of. I usually don't use words like "mitigate" with my wife because she laughs at me and then corrects my grammar. The point, however, stands.

At Voodoo Fest in October, I was with some friends waiting for Rage Against the Machine to take the stage when the following was shouted by one of them:

"I don't want to sound like an old man, here, but this little girl next to me is mad at me because I'm standing on her pants. Are you fucking kidding me?! Standing on your pants?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I had to agree, especially since a guy next to me had just asked me rather politely if I could step off of his pants and I was happy to be able to properly ridicule the idea without directing it at him.

I found myself in a similar "I don't want to sound old, ..." situation tonight at the movies. (More after the break)

First off, let me say that I hate text messages or "texting". It is a thoroughly ridiculous and inefficient method of communication. I understand its advantages and use it (sparingly) in situations in which more conventional forms of communication (like shouting across the room)are rude and/or inconvenient. The middle of a major hurricane is one of those situations in which text messages are invaluable, if still distasteful. I'm not anti-technology, I just dislike this particular medium.

The kid next to my wife and I would not stop texting through the entire movie. What's the big deal, right? If he had been using a regular phone, maybe it wouldn't be. But he had one of those big do-everything-but-jack-you-off phones with a huge screen that was distractingly bright. We're not in your fucking living room, dude! Watch the fucking movie! He finally stopped when my wife leaned over and started reading over his shoulder. I was so proud.

When the movie was over, I saw upwards of ten kids ranging from 13 to 17 years old pick up their phones and start texting as they were walking out of the theater! Hadn't even gotten down the aisle. Please stop telling(?) Mary Sue Bob whatever drivel is passing through your under-developed noggin long enough to avoid stepping on my fucking feet. And dude, I understand and admire the dexterity involved in simultaneously texting and taking a piss, but just disconnect for crying out loud! At the very least, it's unsanitary. Yeah, you won't be laughing when you get gonorrhea of the face.

I know, I know. My parents didn't understand why I had to have music drowning out the world all the time and these kids will have children and not understand the constant need of the hive-mind buzzing in their brains. I just wish it didn't make me feel so old.

BTW, the new Indiana Jones totally rocks.

UPDATE 5-26: Apparently, the Russians are pissed off about Indiana Jones, which is off topic, but fucking funny. Thanks to Broken Toys for the link.