Circa 1980

I was just watching the Micheal Jackson special they had on Star World last night and found out I had a red Micheal Jackson Beat It jacket.

It wasn't leather, pleather, or anything expensive. It was a nice ultra-soemthing fabric thing that my aunt sent from Germany and only wore about six times before I got too big for the damn thing (I was around 5, I think)

It's now somewhere in the Salvaton Army, along with this black mock croc belt that I had with a huge silver buckle. Early nineties fashion. Damn, I loved that belt.

Ahem.

Anyway, yesterday we took my grandmother out for lunch in Malate (former bohemian haven and now yuppie but wanna be Frank Zappa party district)

Went out wearing jeans, sneaks and a tee (no make-up) and someone mistook me for a high school student. Which is great considering that the NBA first drafts are now kids my age.

KIDS MY AGE.

The 90210 bacth are now busy setting up pension plans, the cast of Star Trek TNG are now this close to collecting them, while the Brat Pack-ers are buying Ferraris and contemplating their life as they hit their mid-life crisis.

So damn, yes, it's still great to be 17.