It’s not easy being in the cool crowd. So many uncool people want to join the club. I once started writing a book called, “Are we on Suck or Blow?” Minds out of the gutters, people. I have skype now, so I can see what you’re thinking. It was intended as a chicken and egg question.
When cool people enter a room, the people around them get a little cooler. So are we sucking all the loser stuff out of the room, or blowing our coolness on others? Modern science has not been able to figure out the cause for this phenomenon.
Last night, we went to the Japanese steak house for my daughter’s 32nd birthday. Somewhere between the steak and my daughter’s performance of the chicken dance, she and I went out for a cigarette. A good looking guy (we’ll just call him Phillip, because that was his name) came over and asked if he could join us. Like flies to poop.
We asked to see a written note from his wife verifying that he met the club’s stringent qualifications for membership, then my daughter started laughing. Trouble. It is physically impossible for my daughter to laugh without snorting. We were immediately outed as posers.
Statistically, with me being 56 and her 32, the odds are with us that we will have picked up some coolness over our lifetime. Between us, we have 88 years of mediocre personalities. I played in the orchestra in school, and my daughter did Jazzercize in her youth. Neither of us even made it up to the level of band geek.
She’s planning on moving up North to go to school and make a career change since her current job doesn’t pay enough to live on. Once again, she needs to decide what she wants to be when she grows up. We always wanted cool jobs, like astronauts, or firemen, or cowboys. Looking over the catalog, she was trying to decide whether to go into motorcycle mechanics (cool) or computer programming (not cool). Guess which one she chose.
I guess we’re destined to be geeks the rest of our lives, but if you snort when you laugh, you’re welcome to hang out with us. You don’t even need a note from your wife. We’ll be the ones doing the chicken dance.