Friday, 20 January 2012

Do You Wanna be in My Gang?

You can be in my gang if you are of a “certain” age and admit to being as confused as I am about the following: (A smidgeon of disinterest as to what the answers are is a bonus!)

Who the hell is Tulisa and where did she come out of?
Same question for Justin Bieber.
What’s a kettlebell?
Do you not get dizzy when you “spin?” 
Is Zumba not a type of smoothie?
Can you tell the difference between Ryan Gosling and Ryan Reynolds?
Do you “get” the Twilight craze?  Do you not think the two lads are a bit creepy looking?  And isn’t she the surliest looking young wan you’ve seen since your own teenage years?
What the hell is a jaeger bomber?
Have you the first idea about Twitter?
Have you mastered prescriptive text?

None of the above makes any sense to me either.  Having said that, Face Book was giving me Freddy Krueger moments too but I gave it a lash, Jack.  I am a very recent and new convert to this most excellent social networking site and I am loving it! I picked it up quickly enough, but only after a certain amount of trepidation it has to be said, so I reckon there is hope for me yet. But I was kicked into touch recently and reminded of how time is marching on, for me at least, when I opened a magazine.  I don’t mind admitting that I am partial to a certain “older woman’s” magazine because I love the crossword in it, so I surprised even myself when I picked up a “glossy”.  The first thing I liked about it was, it would fit neatly in my bag and the second reason I decided to buy it was because I recognised the cover girl from That 70’s Show
I knew I should have stuck to the boring magazine.  I just felt old when I finished reading it. And exhausted.  Jesus, I don’t ever remember things being that hard in my mid 20’s and through to my 30’s.  The pressure!  I wanted to write in and tell them about a favourite expression of mine, “don’t sweat the small stuff.”  The whole thing made having four kids look easy!  And right in the middle of it was some kind of sexiest actor poll thingy.  In my day David Boreanaz (Jesus, I am old!) was at the top of his game and came in a clear head and shoulders above all the rest but there wasn’t even a whisper of him in this magazine.  The kids of today probably never even heard of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I’d be willing to bet good money too that it pisses all over that Twilight stuff!  I couldn’t even tell you who was the number one hot shot in the magazine, mainly because I had never heard of him.  Like 90 per cent of all the others. Does nobody smile anymore?  Contrary looking fuckers, the whole lot of them!  Now admittedly I watch little or no television these days but even back then, I would have been, at the very least, vaguely aware of who various famous people were.  Today, definitely not so much.  I picked up a bag of “retro sweets” the other day.  Part of me was transported back into nostalgia land and the other part of me just sighed in acceptance. You know you’re old when you used to eat “retro sweets.” But they were called Black Jacks, Fruit Salads and Refreshers back then.  Right now, Nevin Maguire is making chocolate biscuit cake and I am ready, with pen poised to take down the recipe. This is what I am reduced to.  My life is just filled with so many different levels of excitement, I don’t know where to begin.     
I knew though, that I had lost all hope of redemption when, one day, I admired the outfit Angelina Ballerina’s teacher was wearing. Betcha thought I was going to say Angelina Jolie! (That woman is just far too smug looking for my liking.) For those of you who don’t know, Angelina Ballerina is an annoying little mouse who is rapidly catching up on that other bratty Pig Peppa in the obnoxious stakes.   
So if you can remember the original Pippa in Home and Away, your house didn’t have a Soda Stream and you coveted your best friends, there’s a place for you in my gang.  My arms are outstretched in greeting to those who used to eat Peggy’s Legs. 
Anyone who has ever threatened to Cut The Legs off their kids can just skip the queue and come right on up to the front and sit beside me.  You’ll be in good company, old friend.  Very good company indeed.

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