Dating Myself
I'm starting to feel old. On two separate occasions in the past week, I've made references to friends that I felt a need to corroborate because it occurred to me they were young enough to not know what I was talking about. Let me ask you guys:
1) If I said, "You can bring home the bacon. Fry it up in the pan. But don't ever let her forget you're a man," would you know what I was spoofing?
2) If I sent you an e-mail that read, "We'll Do Our BBQing in the Rain," would you know what song I was referring to?
(I won't make you wait for the answers. This is the first one, and this is the second one, although I see that A-ha actually did a pretty cool remake of it, so maybe that will trigger with folks.)
1) If I said, "You can bring home the bacon. Fry it up in the pan. But don't ever let her forget you're a man," would you know what I was spoofing?
2) If I sent you an e-mail that read, "We'll Do Our BBQing in the Rain," would you know what song I was referring to?
(I won't make you wait for the answers. This is the first one, and this is the second one, although I see that A-ha actually did a pretty cool remake of it, so maybe that will trigger with folks.)
Labels: me
1 Comments:
Are you kidding? My *kids* know the answer to the first question. Because Raquel Welch performed it with Miss Piggy on the Muppet Show. The first season of which is currently on endless repeat around here, assuring that I'll never have to feel old, because my kids are now more familiar with 1970s celebrities than I am...
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