In my case, it's watching my daughter, and seeing her as my parents saw me. For example, she recently acquired this t-shirt that looks as if someone vomited all over it in technicolor. I suppose years ago tie-dye was popular, but this design takes the color thing to a new level. On Saturday she dragged me into a store called Ecko in a Pennsylvania outlet mall and got me to buy her another hundred bucks worth of this style.
We almost purchased these clothes from Edwin, a guy who wore his polo-style Ecko shirt with the collar pulled up, but only in the back. He had a NY Yankees cap, several sizes too small, dangling sideways off his head, filled either with air or a large tumor. He wore two earrings on each ear and a huge faux-gold watch. When we were next, he closed his register to talk to his co-worker about whatever they did last night. I was in a mood to walk, but my daughter prevailed upon me to wait a little more for his relatively drab-looking colleague.
Last week we visited her cousins in Canada. The three of them sat on two beds, my daughter with a laptop and the two cousins each with an Ipod touch. They sat in the same room, within visual range and earshot, texting one another. I asked why they couldn't just talk. They looked at me like I was crazy and described how much cooler this was.
A while later, when they sat in another room talking to one another, I asked why they weren't texting instead.
Stories herein containing unnamed or invented characters are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.