I should have seen it coming, given the fact that we now have a definition called the Millennials (also known as Generation Y, Generation Me, Echo Boomers, Peter Pan Generation) for the 30-somethings that grew up with the whizmos and gizmos of the 21st century.

I went into a local shop the other day and they wanted the usual information, starting with “how are you going to pay for this?”

Being from the 8-track generation, a Has-Bennial, I expected the clipboard with three sheets of paper, a pen, and a question asking to provide my mother’s maiden name. Instead, the woman hands me a tablet and points to the reception seating area. A tablet?

No one in town will be mistaking me for a Millennial. I’m just happy to be able to download Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” for my ringtone and set a picture of the fourth hole at Bear Mountain Ranch Golf Course as the wallpaper on my iPhone. Actually, knowing that I have a iPhone and not a tell-o-phone is a bit of an educational process.

So I sit down and begin the process of punching in my information. Being a hunt-and-peck kind of guy that uses his index fingers, rather than the Millennials, who only know how to type with their thumbs, I start poking away. I might be a few French fries short of a Happy Meal, but I did actually figured out these little guys (tablets) are set up like my keyboard at work. Dugh? That little keyboard is a lot faster using all of my eight and a half digits than poking away with one finger.

I’m sure that color television was as amazing to my grandparents as the internet was to my folks. Using an information-gathering system with a direct link to the company’s computer system isn’t all that amazing to the generation that can send words to Hong Kong with the press of a button. But for a guy that remembers what black-and-white pictures looked like in the newspaper, this is cool.

“The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast.

The slowest now, will later be fast … ”

Dylan wasn’t talking about me, but he could have been. I still need the 20-somethings, shoot the 10-somethings, to explain techno-bob stuff to me. But I am teachable in this Brave New World.

As I sat there poking in my mother’s maiden name, I chuckled at that Pepsi commercial where Antonio Brown is doing his end zone dance, “This is just how Lucas feels after getting Katie's number.”

I didn’t get paid to get dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, but I suspect it is how Lucas feels after getting Katie’s number.