Youth without youth

Of the many benefits of living with a consort who is fresh out of college and 22 again, meeting his new friends cannot be overestimated. When I was a similar age, no one at a party ever opened a bottle of wine with a screw-off cap and reusable plastic “cork” and showed the latter around the kitchen to an appreciative: “It’s a butt plug!” Then again, the wines brought by guests that were being unsealed were way more casually sophisticated than the Mateus and Blue Nun of my long-lost youth. And no one ever passed out penis-shaped hard candies for dessert back in the day; definitely no one ever suggested getting a convivial group together to make a couple hundred dumplings to share for dinner. It’s too bad the world is going to hell in a gas tank when the people are getting so much more evolved. But my favorite detail of an excellent evening in Williamsburg (not Virginia) was the business card an engaging guy handed me as I was leaving after giving him mine. I didn’t have my glasses and only the next morning saw what was on the back: the printed words “the guy you talked about _____ with” and the hand-written words “food and radio” filling the blank. If anyone had known this trick 24 years ago, about 6 xillion business cards would not have made their way into my bag only to leave me wondering: Who was that person who seemed so fascinating? Add matchbooks to the long list of what we’ve come a long way from.