You know you’re getting on in years when the slang starts to sound unfamiliar to you.

There’s a nice girl in New York who sometimes reads my blog.  When something or someone pleases her, she says “That rocked my face.” Now, my generation is familiar with the notion of a full-body rocking, i.e. “That rocked my world.” The popularization of said term can perhaps be traced back to the musical stylings of Queen, with their anthemic classic “We Will Rock You.” (That was actually my brother’s generation, not mine, but close enough.)

But now this newer generation has detached the rocking from its full-body usage and now singles out various body parts, i.e. the rocking of the face.  Again, the meaning is clear; it’s a compliment.  But I can’t help but fall prey to a nagging feeling of guilt: “There’s a nice girl who reads my blog and in return I’ve somehow managed to dislocate her jaw.”

Then there’s this whole notion of “mad skillz,” meant to suggest an array of highly tuned personal abilities or talents.  Nonetheless, I can’t help but think that someone with mad skillz is either
- A contributor in an editorial, creative, or administrative capacity to the satirical publication Mad Magazine, or
- A cannibal who ate someone’s brain and contracted laughing disease.

“How’s your history paper going?

“Great!  I’ve got mad skillz!”

“Jesus, if you were hungry, you could have just said so--I’ve got stuff in the kitchen.  You didn’t have to eat someone.”

Lest you think that I’m just a grumpy gus, let me reassure you--you don’t know the half of it.  I also refuse to eat in a coffee shop that spells “coffee” with the letter “k.” And also?  If you see a sign that says something like “Ye Olde (Antique/Toffee/Soap etc.) Shoppe,” you can replace the word “Olde” with “Suckworthy” and you’ve got yourself a pretty good reading of that establishment.