It Strikes Me Funny: It dawned on me... how old am I?

My previous post is brilliant. And hopefully relevant.

(You really should read it first for some semblance of context, though it’s not entirely necessary).

A friend and I had planned to get together yesterday day to assemble two chairs so I called to confirm (otherwise I’d go for a bike ride - the weather is beautiful here in SW Ontario) and during the brief conversation I asked, “Do you like squeaky cheese?”

(I thought I’d take a bowlful out to The Shed, with swiss crackers, for break time. Breaks are very important at my age).

All I heard back on the phone was silence.

Then a “huh?”

“You know, curds. Curds and whey. Little Miss Muffet ring a bell?”

“I think I’ve heard about Little Miss Muffet,” my young friend replied.


["Where'd I put the sarsaparilla?": GAH]

It was then I realized my language is as old as I am... and I’m how old?

I used the phrase ‘many people have more money than Carters has pills’ in the previous post and felt I had to explain what I meant. So I did.

I wonder, if my language is as old as I am and I’m writing and talking and blogging a fair bit... how much of my current language doesn’t compute?

I mean, I may only be 72.4 % relevant and not even know it.

I’d better pour myself a cold sarsaparilla and think this over.

***

Are you saying things that date you? Such as...

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