Not so long ago, I asked my mother to play “The Entertainer,” by Scott Joplin.
She said, “I don’t know that song.”
If you ever wondered how you would know childhood was definitively over, I can tell you that it will be a moment like that.
For the 6570 days of my first 18 years, I heard that song banging out of the old upright in the living room, sometimes more than once, at varying speeds and volumes, depending upon how her day had been.
Maybe you remember it from The Sting.