Sports Illustrated might call this a "sign of the apocalypse," but I just call it a sign of the times:
So the other day, one of my private students is telling me about the preparations for an upcoming school dance: how they're having it at some "mansion" in the area, trying to go all-out on the rented tux, how his date has already sprung for the limo...and I'm wondering if I've entered some weird parallel universe.
Now, you might be thinking, "Whatdyamean, Kev, we did that at my senior prom!" Well, yeah, but the student in question was a middle-schooler, and he was talking about an eighth-grade dance! It's come a long way from that time in my life, when they held the dance in the school cafeteria, and we all just trotted out our Sunday morning suits one more time....and all the guys would stand on one side and the girls on the other, wondering who would be the first ones to actually dance.
And oh yeah, as for my own senior prom...I drove my Nissan and got to park in a really good parking place marked "compact car only." Limo? What limo? My first limo ride is another story for another time...