Coo-coo-ca-choo

Everyone knows what a Mrs. Robinson reference means, but has everyone actually seen The Graduate?

I know I hadn't seen it since a film festival in college, so it pleased me no end when I saw that it was this week's Movies and Mimosas feature at the Bowtie.

After waking suddenly and unnecessarily at 8:00 this morning (I'm an eight-hour girl and that was barely six), I had nothing but time, so it seemed like a good opportunity to revisit 1967.

I was curious about just how different things were back then, especially since the story of a recent college graduate adrift in the adult world is a timeless one.

I got my answer pretty quickly: very different. Among the once-commonplace and now obscure cultural artifacts: stockings and garter belts (okay, still around, but not worn daily), half slips (I had one in elementary school, but not nearly as jazzy as Mrs. Robinson's), gym suits for girls in P.E. classes, and elaborate bathing caps for swimming in pools (to maintain a mom's elaborate hairdo, I think).

Beer cans required an opener, so every beer Benjamin held had two punch holes in it. There were drive-in restaurants with trays that rested on the window openings. Pay phones were in hotel lobbies and in the halls of rooming houses.

There was the awkwardness of Benjamin registering for a hotel room and having to pretend he was alone so as not to arouse suspicion that he was there for illicit purposes.

And there were jokes about Elaine's wedding being held in the maternity ward and her parents "having" to get married because of a tryst in a Ford. Ben and Elaine's love led almost immediately to wanting marriage. It was all very culturally dated.

But Simon and Garfunkle's music still worked beautifully in the film and I understood why director Mike Nichols had insisted on using it. It totally fit the film and captured the spirit of the generation portrayed.

The Graduate is a classic for a reason; it's well-written, well-acted and with the kind of compelling characters for whom the audience roots. The humor is both subtle and overt. And it portrays generations trying to deal with major social and cultural upheaval.

For years a good friend of mine referred to me as Mrs. R. because I was in a relationship with a friend of his, a guy younger than me. Of course now everyone uses cougar instead of Mrs. Robinson to mean that.

And despite her being mean as a snake, I'd still take being called Mrs. Robinson over being called a cougar any day.

Should the appellation apply, of course.