From me, tonight, on Twitter: "There is an entire generation for which the term 'LP' means nothing. I am old."
And then: "No, whippersnappers. 'LP' does not mean "Linkin Park." I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS. GET THE [REDACTED] OFF MY [REDACTED] LAWN"
And then: "I will always call albums LPs. It's in my WRETCHED, WITHERED GEEZERFIED DNA."
And then: "All of youth culture just sent a carbon-dating crew to my house. After a brisk analysis, I am apparently FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS OLD."
And then: "Don't mind me. Me and my buddy OSTEOPOROSIS are sitting here on the porch swing, drinking Country Time and listening to the phonograph..."
And then: "Good gravy, there's nothing like gumming a Whitman's Sampler until it finally melts in your toothless mouth. FLIP THAT LP, OSTEOPOROSIS!"
And then: "Off to run over some white-earbud-wearing punks with my Hoveround. I'VE GOT YOUR MP3s RIGHT HERE"
At which point Buddy Brannan said: "When Melanie got her Hoveround the rep said that the echoing voices at the Grand Canyon were the old people going over the edge."
To which I replied: "@bbrannan No. It's the sound of YOUTH CULTURE GETTING SMASHED UNDER THE MIGHTY HOVEROUND'S WHEELS"
And then the mighty John Cmar said: "@jchutchins I'm sure you shouted SUCK MY OSTEOPOROTIC FEMUR-HEAD, BIEEYATCHESSSSSS!!! #mybodyisanelderlywonderland"
To which I replied: "@Cmaaarrr That's EXACTLY what I said. The fountain of spittle was glorious, as I didn't have my teeth in. #MyLiverSpotsTasteLikeAwesome"
To which he replied: "@jchutchins There's nothing like gum-slurred froth-speech to put the young'uns in their place. #ifonlymyprostatedidntweighmedownso"
At which point I could not reply, as I was wheeze-laughing. For I am a geezer.
As you were.