So it has come to this: bifocals, baldness, chins, the constant creaking and tottering, and those thick black hairs growing out of my ears. Diapers probably aren't far off.

What's even harder than aging is having to admit to it. I used to be good at denial but even that doesn't work well anymore-- not since I took this new job.

The editor said he hired me because of my familiarity with the subject matter. From the the editor of 'The Wall Street Journal' or 'Golf Digest' that would have been a compliment; but from 'Geezer Magazine'?

Perhaps I'm being too negative. He could just as easily have been referring to my intimate knowledge of the young and their habits. You see, Geezer Magazine's mission is to help older people to understand younger people. The premise is that we all did things in our youth that riled and confused our elders. Now that we're elders, we're riled and confused by the things our kids do. There's common ground there, and the magazine aims to find it.

'Geezer' is a monthly magazine. I've contributed to the past six issues. In case you missed it, there was the article I wrote last November about the current popularity of tattoos and body piercing. In it, I interviewed a lovely, young Sophomore who explained her decision to get a tongue-stud:

"Well, I wadded to make a thtatement. I wadded to gib mythelf an edthier look.... and id diddn'd hurd ath mush ath I thoth id woulb."

The February story was probably the most successful, in terms of creating a sense of connection between young and old. The article focused on youth fashion trends and particularly on the career of Billy Beckman, the 24-year old multi-billionaire who started the Beckman Backward Ballcap Company. Although the article gave no clear insight as to why young men wear their hats that way, it was at least able to introduce our readers to a youngster they could relate to.

Despite being less than a quarter-century old, Mr. Beckman is retired and like many wealthy retirees, splits his time between golf courses and cruise ships. He hasn't taken up bingo or bus trips to Atlantic City yet, but he does like to hang around the local barber shop and complain about the government.

This month's article just went to press and is likely to be even more successful than the ballcap story. It's about the current popularity of car stereos.

What qualified as a car stereo when I was young would not qualify as one today. The combination AM radio/8-Track tape player that used to blast Bachman-Turner Overdrive from my '74 AMC Gremlin was loud enough to be annoying, but not loud enough to shatter glass, loosen shingles or overturn mobile homes. By current standards, it would be pitifully lame.

Good stories start with good research. I began at 'Atomic Tom's House Of Sound'. The proprietor was not the kind of person I expected him to be. Tom was fifty-ish and pudgy with a crescent of shaggy hair hanging from the side of his head. After touring the showroom, we sat down in his office over coffee. The mugs he chose were taller than most, yet he had filled them only half way. A moment later, I understood why.

I had just opened my notebook and was about to start the interview when an explosion rocked the building. Chunks of crumbled ceiling tile were falling all around us. File cabinets rocked and swayed. The coffee in our extra-tall mugs erupted like geysers, but amazingly, fell straight back in. Tom sat there serenely as if nothing had happened.

There was another explosion. Tom glanced into the showroom.

"Sounds like someone's taking the X-2000 for a test drive.", he said.

The test-drive continued, so we conducted the interview by passing notes back and forth.

"Is that why your desk is bolted to the floor?", I scribbled.

"Yeah.", he replied. "See those pictures of my wife & kids? Super-glued 'em to the wall. Works OK."

"What got you into car audio?", I asked.

"Seventy-percent profit."

"How about the kids that buy it, then? What do THEY see in it? It's so loud, you can't even tell what song they're playing." Tom took his turn at the notebook, then passed it back across the desk.

"They play songs?"

As the messages went back and forth, it became clear that to today's young men don't look at car stereos as a method by which to play tunes. According to Tom, the purpose of the audio system was to make the car rattle at a particular frequency. He didn't know why and as long as they were buying, he didn't care.

Contrary to conventional thinking, the customer does NOT always know best. At least in this case, the customer didn't have enough sense to NOT purchase a product that makes his ears bleed. If they don't know best, I thought, at least they might know why. So I went to the mall in search of kids with car stereos.

They can be heard from any part of the parking lot, but the echoes make their exact locations hard to pinpoint. The trick is to watch the lamp posts. When a stereo-equipped vehicle parks directly beneath one, the vibration will soon cause the bulb to shatter.

Like a wise man following a star, I tracked a trail of falling glass and soon found a young man sitting on the hood of what may have been a Honda Civic. It was hard to tell, what with the paint job and tiny wheels. Using hand signals, I asked him to turn it down so we could talk.

"I'm writing this article", I explained, "and was wondering if you could tell me about your audio system. There are older people out there who hear you drive past their homes, or have had to replace windows because you drove past their homes, and they're wondering what the purpose is."

The young man stared at the pavement and made no response.

"I'm not being judgmental", I continued. "It's just that these stereos make more noise than most jet engines. They don't seem to have anything to do with listening to music. The whole trend is a mystery to many people and I was hoping you'd be able to help me explain it to them. Why did you install this system in your car? What's so important about making your body panels vibrate like that? What do you enjoy about it? Is there something you know that they don't know that would help them to understand?"

After a long pause, the young man looked up. Apparently, he hadn't realized that I had stopped talking.

"HUH?"

"I SAID... I'M JUST TRYING TO HELP PEOPLE UNDERSTAND WHY YOU GUYS PUT THESE LOUD STEREOS IN YOUR CARS!"

"WHAT?", he replied.

Eventually, I abandoned the search for facts and did what most Journalists do these days: I made stuff up.

According to this month's article in 'Geezer', the current trend among young men is merely the latest manifestation of something that has been going on for decades. All guys, everywhere, are genetically drawn to souping-up their cars. In the 1940's they built jalopies. In my day it was big, fat tires, mag wheels, racing carburetors and bored-out, big-block V-8's. Even Amish boys of a certain age have been known to get jiggy with their buggies.

Every generation has to do something, but what worked for one doesn't always work for the next. Big, fat tires don't fit on the little foreign cars boys drive today. No purpose would be served by putting a 4-barrel racing carb on a 4-cylinder engine. These cars wouldn't do zero-to-sixty if you dropped them off a cliff. Horsepower is no longer an option. For today's guys, it's decibels that count.

Either that or it's all about gettin' chicks.

On a happier note, this month's fiasco inspired a topic for next month's article. I'm calling it: "Audiology-- The Career Of The Future"