Unless you have been living under a rock, you will know that the Rolling Stones have made the trip Down Under, and are currently here in Aus about to start their tour in Adelaide. That in itself is pretty amazing on so many levels …. not-the-least-of-which is imagining this bunch of septuagenarians rocking it on stage !!
But equally as curious was the fresh faced young reporter 
in her late 20’s who introduced the story on morning TV… and who excitedly reported that ‘the boys’ had been strutting their stuff wildly in rehearsal. What a crack-up …. I mean for them to call each other ‘boys’ is one thing …. BUT when they could be your grandfathers ??? (..mind you, I’ll bet ‘the boys’ love it.)
Which brings me to the fish market.
On my way home I stopped to grab some fish (as you might in a fish market). I was served by 2 sweet young women (mmm maybe somewhere around 15yrs and 17yrs). Both helpful, attentive and came complete with ‘westie bogan twangs’ …All was well until one of them called me ‘daarl’ …and then the other called me ‘sweetie’ . I mean… what’s with that ???
Don’t get me wrong… this is not about me wanting respect, based on my tender ‘50Something’ years ….it’s the bizarreness of our language, and the sense of familiarity exuded by two young some-ones from whom I just bought one slimy sea creature.
I don’t think it quite constitutes friendship …or even stronger still, an intimacy that might call for words like ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’…. Maybe I’m wrong…but it’s got me wondering.
Wonder Years 
I am currently working with one mid forties lady who owns a motel but works with us and calls everyone babe (that has recently stopped though so she may have been spoken to) and a new girl (thirty year old) who insists on calling me honey…not much longer though!!!!
wierd eh Deb? and somehow awkward… LOL