Seeking both elevation, diversion in embracing the music of a certain age.

A friend of mine does this Simon and Garfunkel impersonation. He mimics the soft-spoken Garfunkel, leaning into the microphone, telling the audience, "We'd like to slow things down now ... even more."

It's a common joke, especially among young people. You tell anyone under 30 that you're going to see Simon and Garfunkel on their reunion tour--that you're excited about it!--and they snicker as if you can't wait for your new pair of Depends.

Now it's true, Paul Simon, 62, and Art Garfunkel, 61, don't have the energy, the physique or the hairlines of 50 Cent, Eminem or Justin Timberlake. I have seen their reunion show, and if Simon strums his guitar hard, it's a major piece of choreography.

But let me tell young readers why my generation is flocking to see these two men, both of whom are old enough to receive AARP benefits.

It's simple. We can understand them.

I don't just mean we can understand their words, although that's part of it. I saw Eminem in concert and the only words I could comprehend were (bleep) and (bleep) and, for some reason, "child support."

By contrast, at the Simon and Garfunkel concert, I could clearly hear lyrics such as:

   The words of the prophets are written
   On the subway walls, and tenement halls
   And whispered in the sounds of silence

It's not just understanding these words. It's understanding the point of the song. Sorry kids, but there's not an artist out there today who writes on a poetic level like Paul Simon. This man wrote the following:

   We come on the ship they call the Mayflower
   We come on a ship that sailed the moon
   We come in the age's most uncertain hours
   And sing an American tune
   By contrast, you have 50 Cent's big hit:
   It's your birthday, we gon' party, like
   It's yo' birthday

Now, I don't mean to mud sling a generation. Teenagers should embrace the music of their time. We did. But the reason middle-aged adults are coming out in droves to Simon and Garfunkel is that their songs were not merely excuses to make videos--they were songs. We sang them.

That's why, when they perform, it's a concert. People are listening. Not waiting for the pyrotechnics or the big video screen.

So let the kids laugh. You know what I say? Slow down, you move too fast. You got to make the morning last. Just kicking down the cobblestones. Looking for fun and feelin' groovy. OK. That song was a little silly.

But it never mentioned child support.

Mitch Albom is the author of the bestseller "Tuesdays With Morrie."