My birthday is coming up next week. I’m not crazy enough to tell you my age, but I will tell you this.
I’m old enough to remember when Hall & Oates, Air Supply, Bon Jovi, U2, and Billy Idol first came on the radio.
I’m old enough to have watched Captain Kangaroo, the original Charlie’s Angels, Sunday night Disney, Moonlighting, and Little House On The Prairie.
I’m old enough to have teased the shit out of my hair, and to have used no less than one bottle of industrial strength hair spray, on said hair, every week.
I’m old enough to have worn leg warmers, shoulder pads, stirrup pants, and off the shoulder sweaters. Sometimes at the same time.
I’m old enough to have been in the theaters munching on extra buttery popcorn while watching Dirty Dancing, Footloose, The Breakfast Club, and Top Gun.
I’m old enough to remember life without cell phones, satellite TV, remote controls, power door locks, and digital cameras.
I’m old enough to know that you don’t need to have a birthday to have cake.
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