Killing time before class starts, my students and I are shooting the breeze about music. One mentions she will be attending Metallica’s upcoming concert in NJ, which I will attending as well. It segues into first album purchased (Micheal Jackson’s “Off the Wall”) and first concert attended, which for me was The Spinners with an appearance by Dionne Warwick. Only one student, not much older than I, knew of the group. Way to feel ancient Rai – geesh, but I guess it was better than none of them knowing, right? Right.
The student who knew of the Spinners sings out “I’m sitting all alone by the telephone, waiting for your call..”
Not missing a beat I join in singing “…when you don’t call at all. It’s a shame, sha-ame.”
We trade lyrics and singers from the late 60s, early 70s for a bit. Clearly, I was familiar enough with the music of that time to have not just heard it from my parents collection. I am accused of that often enough that I just shrug it off for the compliment it accidentally gives. Meanwhile I can see the numbers crunching in his head as he looked hard at my face, which is never a good way to judge my vintage, by the way.
“How the hell old are you?” He baldly asks the burning question at last.
“Damn dude!” Exclaimed another student “You don’t do that!”
Without batting an eye, me – being me, answered in true me fashion.
“Let’s just say I was a cougar to Methuselah.”
There was a most awkward pause before some of them got it and laughed. While Methuselah had to be explained to the rest. It amused me immensely that I, the self-proclaimed resident heathen, made a biblical reference that went over nearly everyone’s head.
“And all the days of Methuselah were nine hundred sixty and nine years: and he died.”
–Genesis 5:27 King James Version (KJV)
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#SOL2017
Let’s see how other’s are rapping up their slices:
Raivenne-lations 
Thanks for the laugh!
Thanks for the smile and memory of some great music. When my sixth grade students would ask me my age I would always answer with, “Older than dirt.”
LOL! You look fabulous, for damn near any age, although your fashion choices might rule out pre-teen, but then again, these days… I had a rather amusing experience the other day. Working on faux painting a hearth in a vacant unit, there’s a knock on the door. My tenants do know my car and track me down sometimes, so I don’t ignore it, but have to get to my feet, so I tumble pell-mell over to the door and open it, flushed and flyaway. But it’s a rando, so I say, “Um, hello?” and he whips out “Are your parents home?” ….. uh….. (head explodes)….. I manage not to laugh in his face, and let him know it’s a vacant apartment and I’m the property manager, but I had been talking on the phone to a friend beforehand, and the door is not closed before I’m wheezing “Did you hear that?” between breathless laughing. It still cracks me up, as it did not seem to be a line. But um, yeah… LOOK CLOSER, laddie, this tender lassie could be your granny!
Rofl!!!