Sir, You Underestimate Me

So I'm walking through the record store with my older friend Charlie, trying to act cool and knowledgeable about music and stuff so maybe he'll forget that he's got more than a decade on me.

"Hey, look," I'm like, pretending I know what I'm talking about. "The Bob Dylan box set is out." Charlie eyes me suspiciously, wondering why I'm not over in the hip-hop or electronic section like usual.

But as we browse further I manage to make a few other comments that enhance my credibility, and at this point I would say I'm on the verge of achieving Cool Status, in Charlie's book.

Then I see this symbol on a piece of art on the wall:

The symbol strikes me as familiar somehow, which I take as further evidence of my worldly insight. I decide to go for it.

"Oh, now where have I seen that before?" I offer, leaning closer to the art. "I can't remember, but it looks so familiar..."

"Argh!" Charlie yelps in frustration. "You're so stupidly young! Argh!" And he wanders off to the register, probably feeling out of touch.

I stand there, still wondering. It really does look familiar, but I really can't place it. Now I'm racking my brain, hoping it'll hit me and I can redeem myself. "Oh, I was just kidding," I can say. "Of course I know it's a _____." But the moment passes, and I can't fill in the blank.

Eventually I found out what it is, of course, and saw exactly why my not knowing it at the time pegged me as a CD-generation music listener, but yesterday I made another realization.
My ignorance, there in the record store, was even deeper than Charlie thought. My familiarity with the shape came from an entirely different object, and I wasn't even close to guessing its true purpose.

Here's what I was thinking of, instead. *This*, not what Charlie was thinking of, was what I remembered from my childhood.