How You Know You're Old

Boston was so full of Marathon fans they spilled over like popcorn all over the metro area. And after whining here yesterday I felt so good I said the Hell with work and headed over to one of these burgs where birds atop statues sang their city tunes and every passing fist held a latte. I was standing in front of a park wondering how that street musician could manage to sound like two voices at once when this beefy guy beside me started hollering into his cell phone.“Yeah and I’m in this place I don’t know where and this dude is singin’ John Denver tunes and everything is  mellow – yeah.”“Simon and Garfunkel” I muttered. “He’s singing Simon and Garfunkel”.“Yeah some John Denver tune, I don’t know which.”“Sounds of Silence,” I said.“Yeah and the Marathon was  gooooood and you know very chiiillll and now there’s this  John Denver tuuuune....”“Simon and Garfunkel!  He’s singing Simon and Garfunkel!”He stopped talking and looked at me then and for just a second I thought I was going to get punched right in the face in my speedy little sneakers and hooded sweatshirt but no. His shoulders relaxed and he turned back to his phone.. “Yeah so this woman here says  Simon and Garfunkel.”  “Whatever,” he said.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Later,” he said. And he hung up and I got out of there fast.Maybe he’d gotten a closer look and caught my real demographic. Anyway I’m glad I said my piece. All my life I was shy on the inside however brave I tried to be on the outside. All I can say today is what a relief to have that gone (along with all those awful tampons!)