At Hofstra U earlier today doing another college look-see. We took a break from the information coming at us at 90 mph; the endless parades of kids and their helicopter parents; and the spectacle of hair dye, tattoos and body piercings for a quick bite to eat in their dining hall.
“Look,” I remarked, pointing to a vending machine. “Two bucks for a bottle of water.”
“I remember when it was a dollar,” Catherine, who is all of 17, said, “Less than a dollar even.
“Dad,” she asked, “What did a bottle of water cost when you were young? Three cents?”
Basil and I looked at each other for a split second before answering in unison: “We had no water bottles.”
“How did you get water?” Catherine asked. (Yes, my almost-college bound teenager asked this. Obviously, we’ve been terrific parents.)
As patiently as he could, Basil explained: “Hard to believe, but we turned on the faucet.”