Who's Molly and does she have a sister?

My slip into irrelevancy has picked up pace somewhere along the way. I'm figuring around the start of the skinny jean fad (hope it is at least) and the knit skull cap in the middle of July phenomenal. The other day I asked a group of young adults (that I'm somewhat stuck with, I'll explain later) exactly what a, "molly" was, only to be shot with an ice grill with a smidgen of utter disgust. They, (the hip, as I've come to refer to them, as if they're some 'ubber' class of citizens that only appear when a H&M has a sale) explained that molly is a new recreational drug that apparently is all the rave nowadays. I of course have no interest in Mrs. Molly, especially when the last joint I smoked (yes I did call it a joint) had me wondering if the dragon I noticed sitting on my night stand, was sporting a gold tooth. Don't get me wrong, I don't measure my relevancy with knowing new trends that are mucking about with the younger hordes as of late, nor do I blame them. Full disclosure, my slip from being in the know is completely my fault. I'm not becoming unaware more and more everyday out of since of ornery pride, I just can't keep up. Once understanding exits stage left, all kinds of inadequacies creep in with an unforgiving warmth. The plight of a our elders becomes more prevalent each day, to our much deserved chagrin and right on time I might add. Moral of the story is that every generation will fell this emotional inapplicability at some point or another, act accordingly. I personally measure wins against this war on the inconsequential by the number of times I fit in a new pair of size 34, Express Rocco jeans from the hipster collection. Pick your victory...AC