Grandpa was a Punk

It amazes me how quickly things change.  When you think about all the things our parents had to live with, and their parents, it's almost unbelievable.  For instance, I worked on the moon for two years when I graduated college.  The helium mines that I helped build freed the world from the energy crisis.  My parents drove an old gas burning car.  Cities still had those black electrical wires crisscrossing every intersection on wooden poles and connected to every house.  I don't even think my grandfather went to college, but he's still a wise old guy.  I visit him every other weekend in the facility and listen to his stories about the old days.  I want to say he's gotten kind of belligerent in his old age, but somehow, I think he's always been that way. 

Did you go to college grand dad? I don't think you ever told me.

"You wouldn't remember your pecker if it wasn't buttoned to your rear end."
He's really a sweet old guy.  I swear. 

"Did you bring me my smokes?"
No, you know they don't sell tobacco any more.  Not for years.

"Ahhh!  I've been burning them down since I was eight years old.  I smoked more bowls than Cheech and Chong, and Dr. Dre put together."
You're thinking of marijuana grand dad.  They don't sell that either now.

"Hell yes I went to college.  Junior college, for eight years.  Never graduated though.  That was when I started my band.  I had a mohawk out to here, and more metal in my face than you got in that thing you call a car.  You see these holes all the way up my ear, and in my nose here?"

They don't call them cars any more grand dad.  and there's no metal in them at all.
"How do you expect to pull any honeys in that thing?  I had a Ford Fairmont as big as your whole house slammed so low it scraped the asphalt.  Boy, I used to hit it like... uh, I used to...  what was I talking about sonny?"

The End

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