We’re sitting on the couch listening to/watching a band from Soph’s youth on YouTube.
Soph’s youth, obviously, wasn’t so long ago – her being a super-young Spring chica and all.
So I told her a little tale of how old I was made to feel today.
I went in to the new guitar shop in Abingdon. They’ve only been open a few weeks. The whole place has that lovely ‘just been unwrapped’ smell that comes with all new toys/electrical goods/books/vinyl records…
You know what I mean.
Anyway, as I was browsing around, trying very hard not to fall in love with a delicious looking guitar on the back wall, a Bon Jovi song shuffled on to the iPod-plugged-in-to-an-expensive-docking-station-with-massive-external-speakers.
The lad behind the till dawdled his way over to the iPod, to see who the artist was.
‘Oh!’, he said. ‘Bon Jovi!’
‘How could you not know it’s Bon Jovi?’ I asked. And foolishly added, ‘A 1980s band who never found their way out of the ’80s’.
He looked a bit sheepish and said ‘I don’t remember them from the ’80s’.
I paid for the two plectrums I’d picked up and legged it.