I'm old

I spent about half my day driving all over God's country today. On the way back to the office I stopped in SLO for lunch, hoping I could take advantage of some local flavor and the fact that, though the city is only about the same size as my home and only half-as-large as the city I work in, it sports numerous hip joints, retail shops and restaurants. Well, mission only half-accomplished; I did find something I can't get in either Santa Maria or Lompoc but it hardly offered any local flair.

As I sat finishing my burger there at Applebee's--lots of burger but no Appletinis I'm afraid--I became aware of a conversation going on nearby between two gals, most likely of college age (in fact, most of the employees and a large number of customers fit that bill what with Cal Poly only a few miles away) trying to get their heads around the concept of Yugoslavia. Or rather, the former Yugoslavia.

It found my attention above the rest of the clatter of dishes and conversation when I kept hearing "Yugoslavia,"..."Bosnia,"..."Yugoslavia," over and over. Once I tuned in, the gist of it seemed of the conversation was an attempt for one to explain to the other just what Yugoslavia was.

Such seems simple to a guy like me, someone who was born in the middle of the Cold War, grew up aware of who and what the Soviet Union and it's Communist bloc neighbors were. These two were lost however.

Long story short, the whole episode--aside from the questions it prompted about what is taught in history classes in High Schools and college--left me with a distinct sense of age. The world I grew up in isn't anymore.

Watching these two young women trying to follow the contours of the world maps I grew up with was an eye-opener alright.