Age is a very high price to pay for maturity. Tom Stoppard

I have spent the last 20 min combing the internet for a picture of what I want to blog about today. And I can't find anything even close. I'm going to attribute that to being very un-hip, old and more than anything-white.

I bowl on Tuesday nights on the north side of town. And for the most part I'm spoiled by bowling with women, or with my gays. So when I got asked to bowl on a mixed league (straight: very, very straight), I was shocking to me how shocked I was at the folks that bowled there.

It's like when you hit a Spanish station on the radio, by accident, and you just think, "These aren't 'my people'". and then quickly turn it to some pop top 40.

That's how I feel on Tuesday nights. I can't really relate to any of them.

At a certain hour, it's like a switch if flipped and people pour through the doorway to bowl. The brim on the baseball hats are a lil flatter. The pants hang a lil lower. I'm still amazed how someone can walk the lane approach and hold their pants on AND swing the ball in the other hand.

Look....I don't get it. I don't want to see the color of your underwear. I don't want to see your ass creeping up out or your pants. It makes me a lil nuts. Ok, I said it!

This Tues the most amazing foursome came through the door. If I wasn't in the armpit of NY, I would say it was a rap star. And yes...a REAL hip hop shooting star would have looked just as out of place and.....silly. YES....SILLY! So sue me! This was no hip hop artist, that I could tell. Just teenagers out for a night of bowling.

Since I can't find this get-up on line, I'm going to have to describe it to you: metallic gold and black, over sized and matching from hat, to jacket, to his damn shoes, people! He was a scrawny white boy with this enormous jacket on. It was kinda puffy, but the design was what was amazing. It was like metallic golden swirls and his shoes matched perfectly. He hoisted his pants at one point, so those were, of course, hanging off him non-exsistant ass.

His girl was a foot taller and looked like she had stepped out of a Mattel assembly line. She might have been 18, but her plastic surgery was already aging her. Tweedle Dumb & Tweedle Dumber were the henchmen in tow. They sported white tank tops and hippity hoppity type jackets with flat brimmed baseball caps askew.

It was horrifying and amazing all at the same time. And I wondered....am I that old? Have I reached that age my mother was where nothing I liked was 'cool' anymore? If I was younger and hipper would his outfit be awesome?

No. He looked like an idiot.

While I wore my share of silly things in the 80's, I never looked like my mother dressed me in my father's size of matching tag garanimals.

I think I'm ok with finally hitting the un-cool mark in my life. So I can't watch shows like the Grammy's or the MTV Awards. I still have re-runs of the Brady Bunch. And I do have a certain advantage: a belt.