After my mother, brother, sister and I moved from Ohio where my father lived with his wife and step-kids to Oklahoma where my mother’s best childhood friend lived with her husband, their four kids and successful real estate business, my visitation with my less than perfect father was limited to every other holiday and summer vacations. Eight hundred fifty miles separated the town my father lived and worked in and the town we had moved to without paternal objection because he felt, however rightly or wrongly, that he didn’t have any right to object.
Fortunately, my father and his wife loved to take road trips (and apparently required little sleep) and he usually opted to cover the distance between us by automobile, driving twelve hours to pick us up, spending an hour or so at or near our home where he would load up the additional baggage of three kids spending a period of time with their father and hit the road again for the twelve-hour drive back to his house.
On some of the shorter visits, or perhaps because we were getting older and would choose working over traveling to visit the old man, he would get a hotel room, or a cabin at a lake and spend the time in Tulsa, instead of dragging us back to Cincinnati. I always dreaded getting into the car with my father because on one of his first visits, he discovered a radio station that he loved. They played the music of his youth and apparently a better mix of it than any station he heard around his neck of the woods. I hated the music of his youth, it was all so outdated and boring and the station was very aptly called “the oldies station” (said with a sneer and a mocking tone, of course!)
Today, as I was on my way to pick up my lunch, I was driving down a frontage road along side the ridiculously crowded highway and I noticed a billboard for a local radio station. I immediately grimaced at the idea of the station as the billboard brazenly described the station as “classic oldies…” I mean, ho-hum, right? How boring!
Wait! What did that say? “Classic oldies. All the best hits of the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s! ”
What happened to the 50’s? And since when are the 80’s oldies??? Pretty soon it’ll be best of the 80’s, 90’s and the aughts!
I’m beginning to feel the need to drive with two feet, carry a cane and shake my head as I tsk, “They just don’t make ’em like they used to” while Lil’B sits in the back seat and cringes at my terrible taste in music!
Riggledo 
I have experienced that very same train of thought in regards to what constitutes “oldies” music! The “oldies” were definitely the fifties… maybe the sixties. Eighties music is the music of my adolescence, so how can it be labeled “oldies”???
I would argue that if WE are not getting old than IT can not be old! And WE are not getting old… right? Right? Hello????