����So the other night my daughter's roomie, Marc, and I are chatting on ICQ about women's panties.

����Hmmmm, maybe I should clarify this a bit, wouldn't want folks to get the wrong idea, eh.

����It started about David Bowie. (Anyone who knows Marc knows that as far as he's concerned it *all* starts with David Bowie. The word worship does not adequately convey what Marc feels about Bowie, but we won't go there today.)

����So I mentioned how odd I find it that some of the folks whose music I listened to when I was in high school and university are still on the playlist of my daughter's generation. I mean, there's Bowie, Cher ... and Marc reminded me about Tom Jones, although he's probably more kitsch than anything else now ...

����That's how we got to panties.

����See, I read in a New Yorker profile about ol' Tom that now his concerts have become multi-generational thingies, moms my age go with their daughters. Everyone still throws panties on-stage at him, it's part of the Tom Jones concert ritual.

����Except now women bring brand new panties they've bought for the occasion and toss them on stage, often with the price tags still attached.

����Marc and I are both fascinated by this. Neither of us knows what it means, but we both feel if we can figure it out we'll have stumbled into a major cultural insight.

����Too bad they don't make decoder rings for this kind of thing. Remember those?

����Where *are* the Cracker Jack� people when you need them?