Last week, during my Great Trek Northward, I stopped off in Smalltown USA to visit my parents. We had dinner plans in Small City USA, right next door. There were eight of us at dinner, and I was the youngest by a good quarter century - these were my parent's friends, all in their 60s, all retired.
Apparently, the women in the group have just learned a new word. Bling. I kid you not.
As we walked in, they all showed their "bling" off to each other. Now, granted, there is something to be said about the whole "look in the mirror and take one piece of jewelry off" rule, but these women were no where near the state of "bling" that, say, my grandmother's gauche I've-made-it-out-of-the-Lower-East-Side stuff reached. But there they were, pointing out a necklace here, an earring there, all gleefully exclaiming "bling!"
These women don't know what hip hop (much less rap) music is, and if they've heard of it, they couldn't tell the difference between Eminem, LL Cool J and Afrika Bambaataa. But they know what bling is.
Time to retire the word.