Sitting a stifling few rows back during my endless high school baccalaureate service, I well remember our speaker — a local dignitary — telling us less of what excitement lay ahead, and more of what we were in for.

“Let me say this,” he drawled, leaning over the podium and shaking his head slowly, “It’s not easy out there. I wouldn’t trade places with you young people for anything.”

“Gee, thanks, Sunshine,” I thought, peering downwards to see if there were matching shoes accentuating that white, plastic belt. “But I’ll bet you’re lying. You’re old. And jealous. Who wouldn’t want to change place with us — we have our whole lives ahead!”

Now easily his age, of course I get it. He meant the grind of college and finding a stable career, marrying successfully, paying the mortgage and becoming a responsible member of society.

So, as I look at the latest generation poised to make their mark in the world, far from being smug, I am filled with utter wonder.

How do they do it?

How do they keep up with every new technological gizmo and app? How do they toss off the latest slang of their generation with such aplomb and poise?

When I was in high school, we pretty much chose from a rather limited verbal buffet. Something was either “cool,” “gross” or “far out.” And, oh, how we scorned the ancient (those of our parents’ age), if they even attempted to commandeer anything within our culture.

“It’s called a rip-OFF,” I remember scoffing under my breath at a middle-aged woman who was venting to a cashier about the unfairness of the grocery store declining her coupons, who dared to attempt modern metaphors. “Not a rip-ON. Gah!” 

As karma would have it, the teens of today gab amongst themselves in a language that has made me feel like my mother must have felt when I, with exasperation, yelled, “It’s an answering machine, Mom, not Mission Control! For heaven’s sake, just talk normally when it picks up!”

Gah!

“Yeah, so there is like way too much Drake on Spotify?” I overheard one young girl who seemed to insist on ending each opinion as a question, “But he’s still totally into him and I’m already bored? I mean, I’m not really into ghosting? But I think I’m going to have to? I don’t want to hurt him, so maybe I’ll just like, gatsby on Instagram so he’ll get the message?”

There was a peppering of “freckling,” “breadcrumbing” and “Goat” included as well.

Feeling like a tourist in a remote foreign village, it was all I could do not to swivel around in my booth and ask loudly, as if that would make things clearer, “EXCUSE ME, CAN YOU GIVE ME DIRECTIONS TO RELEVANCE? I’M LOST.”

But I dared not for the fear of being called an Emo Creeper Noob. Look it up — I had to.

Don’t think for a second I’m putting these kids down.

I’m gobsmacked. Filled with admiration. Impressed by their ability to negotiate their way through a digital life. 

And all too aware I’m going to need them to change the clock in my car.