YOU KNOW YOU ARE OLD WHEN ...

The driver who took us from Heathrow to St. Pancras station for the Eurostar to Paris was a native Londoner of Indian or Pakistani extraction who asked if it was all right for him to play some pop music on the radio "to help him wake up."  He found a loud selection [which Susie identified as the BeeGees -- lord knows how], and when Susie said she liked it but I probably did not, he asked what sort of music I like.  I said "something three hundred years older."  He thought for a moment and said, "Like Frank Sinatra."