Without saying the number, how old are you?

Another unnavigably long trail of Quora answers! Rejoice, rejoice oh ye peoples!

I am old. I am old.

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Hendrix was alive when I was born. Stravinsky wasn’t.

One of my earliest memories is the death of Elvis.

PacMan was a diverting novelty to a preteen in country Crete.

Books were my constant companion.

I had a substantial audio cassette collection.

The fall of the Berlin Wall was a defining memory in my life.

When I went to uni, people kept their mouths shut in libraries, and libraries had a function other than as a drop-in centre for people to check their Facebook.

“2 MB of RAM on the new Mac?! What are you going to do with it all?!”

I saw a glimpse of the Web when finishing undergrad. I predicted it would never work out. There wasn’t even a tenth of the stuff on the Web that there was on FTP networks.

I amassed a personal library of photocopies of academic texts.

The most recent electronic music I heard was drum ’n’ bass.

I lectured using an Overhead Projector.

I made a Semtex joke at an airport back when you could get away with it.

Twitter was the first technology I didn’t intuitively understand. There have been many others since.

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