Me? Getting old?

Last night went shopping with mrs. anglosaxy down Shenkin Street, Tel Aviv's hippest and most happening road. I have to say that I haven't been down there for at least a year, but even in that year or so, things seem to have moved onwards and upwards. I like to think of myself as being 'in touch' with the yoof of today, but there are so many pierced navels and eyebrows, wide expanses of skin covered in animal/Celtic tatoos - the cute little roses/cherries/Little Princes typically located on the right shoulder are no longer enough - and dreadlocks, that it really doesn't resemble the Shenkin that I knew and worked in a few years ago. The lunatics appear to have taken over the asylum. And hey, shop assistant, you continue with your winning bitchy personality, that really is the way to ensure I'll be back...

[heavy Yorkshire accent] Eee up lad, I remember when you could get change from a ten shekel note (not the coin)...[/heavy Yorkshire accent]