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What can I say?

I'm a near-lifelong Texan, but please try not to hold it against me.

For all those worried about such things now, I'm legal. Boy am I legal. Subversive, but legal.

I could buy a drink on Mars, but I'd just be in preschool on Jupiter - that sounds a bit better.

No, wait, I'm trying to prove how old I am.

I've been getting letters from AARP for a while now. God, that's depressing. Scratch that.

I have clothes hanging in my closet that could have their own LJ accout without parental supervision.

All of my three children can legally create their own account without my permission; one has. That's slightly disturbing.

I could have a grandchild in school with no teenage parenting involved. That's VERY scary.

Not only was I alive when JFK was assassinated, I was home from school sick and watched all the events on TV. Black and white TV. With vacuum tubes and a record player in the console that gave you your choice of speeds (16, 33 1/3, 45 or 78 RPM), and a radio that predated FM. And it wasn't an antique.

No, I didn't walk five miles to school barefooted in the snow, uphill both ways, after doing two hours of chores in the dark.

I'll never see anything from Social Security, because I was born in the peak year of the Baby Boom. Now I'm really depressed. I'd better quit.

Except that yes, I am of age anywhere you would care to name.