on a recent non-stop from sfo to jfk, as we awaited latecomers taking their seats, a group of young hipster types spread out over several rows in front of me became transfixed by the video screen. what was the fuss about? hall and oates' "out of touch" video.

talk about prescient, if i don't say so myself.

they began animatedly chatting amongst themselves, singing snippets of other classics by the most successful pop duo of all-time. and in a instant, we were transported magically to welcome to johnson's on the lower east side, where daryl crooned his little heart out while youngsters yipped along between sips of $2 PBRs.

don't roll those eyes. i mean, private eyes. they're watching you. they see your every move. and admit it. you're clapping along. right. now.