As old as I am told.....

Despite my desperate cosmetic efforts to stay young atleast at heart, I am steadily being beached to the shores of what is called the "older generation". I have started losing grasp (in both senses of the word) over what the people ashore call the "younger generation". It is difficult being stranded midway and the throw-rope that connects me with the newer generation is getting frayed rather quickly. I think I am bolting towards senility.
I realized that when I was hanging out at my regular bar, a very laidback and calm place. I happened to stumble upon one of my students who took great pride in the fact that she came to that place only to use the restroom, because the other happening places were filled with the youngsters like her who can hold neither their liquor nor the excretory repercussion that follows. I was asked why I was here playing pool here among people who seemed to be drinking off their pension, when I should rather be convulsing wildly to loud hip-hop songs versed about unconventional sex and drugs. I tried to thwart further conversation about the topic with the usual “I am too old for all that” reply. Bt instead of accepting my answer at face value, she decided to probe further and asked me how old I was, especially since she felt that I didn’t look very old. I told her I was twenty two and her face skewed to an expression that was a blend of surprise, exasperation and 4 shots of tequila, as she told me that she was twenty six herself. It felt awkward to be chronologically younger than a person whom you regard as a kid. People seem to be stuck in a redundant loop after adolescence. Their growth seems to slow down to a slogged progression. I on the other hand, I think I should start looking out for a good deal to buy a pair of dentures on amazon.com. I think suffer from some mental form of “juvenile geriatricism”, where one simply feels too old.
I am also increasingly convinced that I should stop trying to relate to kids. It only gets worse every time I try. I committed one such grave mistake recently, when a 9th grade student fired up a conversation with me on one of the networking websites. I thought I would be nice for a change and humor the kid for a while. The kid, from dear old motherland, showed great interest in the accessibility of internet in the USA. He asked me if there was wireless internet access on the roads. (God this is the United States for crying out load, not Utopia!!!). Just as I had typed him a reply telling him that this generally was not the case, I had another message waiting patiently to throw me off my chair. It read “I was told you could sit on the road and watch porn.” Among other things, he actually was mighty perverted for a 9th grader. I really wondered what would become of him when his hormones swung into full action. I would never understand, why he would want to watch porn, sitting on the road. There are too many things I fail to understand. Soulja boy, Guitar Hero and low-hip undie-fundie pants (and thongbirds for girls) among others. I am only glad I am too old to understand all that.