This weekend I entered a time warp as I went on a road trip with four Generation-X females, two of whom were my daughters.

We went to the beach, reveled in the sun 'n' sand, discussed everything from males to the meaning of life and just generally hung loose.

Several revelations were disclosed to me on this fun-filled weekend of frivolity.

I realized that at a certain age, the friend figure takes over the mother figure, and I have reached that age. I gave my offspring the responsibility of lathering on suntan lotion and deciding how far out was too far out in the water.

In return, they included me in their adult conversations and I learned that problems are pretty much the same for these girls as they were when I was single in the '60s. The pressing problems of "How do I pay the rent?" and "Is he the one for me?" are still there to be dealt with. Only his name and the amount of the rent have changed.

The young ladies were most interested in events of the '60s and if they were really as the media describes in the '90s.

As I described where I was and how I felt when I heard JFK and Martin Luther King were killed, what it was like teaching in the first integrated school in Huntsville, Ala., and friends I knew that went to Vietnam, they became excited that I had come of age in such a noteworthy decade.

They were appalled that Woodstock was so unimportant to me at the time that it made no lasting impression. They couldn't believe that I didn't appreciate Elvis and the Beatles. They refused to believe that I never knew anyone who smoked marijuana, did LSD or wore love beads.

I was appalled to learn that's the way they thought things were. I explained to them that Average Joe and Average Jane did not lead exciting lives.

"You had all the big news in the '60s," they said as they named the Kennedy and King assassinations, Woodstock, Vietnam, Freedom Riders, sit-ins, anti-war demonstrations and the walk on the moon.

"What was it like coming of age in the '60s?" they asked.

"Boring. We had no idea our decade would be romanticized 30 years later."

"Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news about JFK?"

"I was walking to freshman speech class. Martha Cayson and I sat on the curb and cried."

"Where were you when you heard Martin Luther King was dead?"

"I was stopped at a red light at the intersection of University Parkway and Jordan Lane in Huntsville, Ala."

"What about the day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon?"

"Boulware and I came in from riding our horses, Old Blue (Boulware's quarter horse) and Lucy (my appaloosa), to watch the giant leap for mankind."

"Were you a Deadhead?"

"Paid no attention to Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead until my child went to a concert in the '80s."

"You experienced so many other historical happenings during the decade, such as the passage of the Civil Rights Act, Chappaquiddick and the Cuban Missile Crisis. You had the Freedom Riders. Your parents had World War II and the Great Depression. What will we tell our children when they ask about the '90s?

"Oh, don't worry. They will ask about those who worked for gay rights, abortion rights and the environment. They'll want to know where you were when Nicole was murdered and what you were doing when Rodney King was beaten. You'll be expected to remember where you were during the days of Waco and the Oklahoma City Bombing and if you knew anyone involved in Desert Storm. They'll ask if you witnessed drive-by shootings or car jackings. You'll be asked which allegation of illicit sex or bribes accepted by which congressman impressed you most. They might even get personal and ask if you belonged to the Bloods or the Cripps. Don't you see, you'll have plenty of violent newsworthy events to share, and the decade in only half gone."