Time passes… the bastard

lauper.jpgTime passes… the bastard
: I get in trouble with my kids everytime I buy a CD.

I got the new Cyndi Lauper album. Now I understand why the album itself might have driven them crazy, since she’s singing classics (well, what today qualify as classics: Walk On By, Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood). But when my son whined, I said:

“Hey, it’s Cyndi Lauper. She was there at the start of MTV!”

And he replied:

“Daaa-ad, that was twenty years ago!”

I was aged.

outkast.jpgToday, when I turned on the car, the stereo started blasting Outkast.

My son said, “You’re scaring me.”

I said, hey, I’m a hip dad, as dad’s go.

I started a really hip magazine.

I blog.

I work on the Internet.

I listen to Howard Stern (well, I left that out, but it counts).

“You’re not supposed to be hip,” he said.

Why not? I asked, plaintively.

“It’s creepy,” he said.

Aged again.