A couple of weeks ago, I stopped at one of my favorite consignment shops during a family visit in Dallas. It’s one of my absolute must-dos when I’m in the area, and with my obsessive lust after designer handbags curtailed by a very limited income — even before the current recession, I was watching my pennies and quarters — the relatively affordable pickins at the awesome consignment and thrift shops in the D/FW Metroplex are a godsend.

In any case, it was the day of Obama’s inauguration, and as I perused the merchandise, I chatted with the twentysomething salesclerk about the historic event that had just taken place that morning. She’s like many of her peers in the retail business — fresh, eager to please, endlessly “perky” in the way that only young, carefree college students can be.

Somehow the conversation got around to the well-known misfortune that befalls any occupant of the Oval Office: premature aging as a result of the unbelievable, 24/7 stress that comes with the job description. Witness Bill Clinton in 1992 and again in 2000, or even George Bush in 2000 and just last week. Granted, eight years can bring lots of changes on a person’s face, especially as one heads into middle age, but the presidency of the most powerful nation on earth does have a tendency to accelerate that process. When you have the fate of the free world in your hands, it’s to be expected that you’ll likely come out of it with more than a few stray grays on your head. It’s a small price to pay for the privilege of such awesome power.

Well, before we could proceed much further into the discussion, however, my new friend made a comment that so startled me that I swear my jaw literally dropped and for once, I was speechless.

“Yeah, I was watching something on TV the other day, and, like, there was this, like, president, you know? I can’t remember his name, like, something like FDK or whatever. And there was, like, some kind of war going on, and he was sick, and, like, it really made it hard for him.”

Ahem.

I’m paraphrasing, of course, but this was the gist of her monologue. Dumbstruck, I just made a lame comment about how many Coach bags they had in stock before I hurried out of the store.

FDK? “Some kind of war?” Whatever?

I’m more amused than shocked by the continued popularity of Valley Girl-isms such as “like” that pepper the speeches of today’s young ’uns. I’m still occasionally guilty of it myself, but hey, my generation started the trend. It’s hard to shake off. But surely today’s kids aren’t so poorly educated that they can blithely mix up the names of two of the 20th century’s most popular presidents? That they refer to the greatest global conflagration of modern times as “some kind of war?” I mean, I wasn’t even born when JFK was shot, let alone when FDR was in the White House, but surely their historical administrations merit even a cursory study during one’s high school history classes? It’s a tired cliche that those who refuse to learn history are condemned to repeat it, and it’s equally trite to point out the lamentable state of public education today. But that’s no excuse to accept such lax standards and allow our kids to graduate without so much as a quick-and-dirty understanding of, say, what got us into World War II in the first place. Or that it WAS indeed a World War, the importance of which can’t be overstated even today.

Granted, it’s unfair to foist the responsibility of an entire generation on the small shoulders of the young shop clerk, but it’s a reality that the nation’s dropout rate has reached “crisis” proportions (according to a 2008 U.S. News & World Report article) and that even so-called well-educated professionals in significant policy-making positions are making decisions that reveal a sad lack of understanding of historical events and their far-reaching consequences (see: Iraq war). Our own state of Colorado has the dubious distinction of having one of the country’s lowest college attendance rates AND one of the highest dropout rates. In the wake of one of the most anti-intellectual presidential administrations, we’ve created a culture that devalues critical thinking and intelligence. It’s heartening that we’ve now elected Bush’s exact opposite in that regard, but whether that translates into a restoration of our faith in education and the power of the intellect remains to be seen.

For the sake of our future and that of our children, I hope it does comes to pass. Like, totally.

Marjorie R. Asturias is a freelance writer and weekly FP columnist living in Grand Junction. Reach her at marjorie.asturias@gmail.com.