When did I become a cranky adult?
This morning Ash & I went to one of our favorite breakfast joints, Uncle Herb’s, and a 16ish kid walked by with his pants hanging a good 6 inches below his butt. Unbidden, my mind started speaking in the voice of the Cheri Oteri charater on SNL that screams at people from her front porch: “Kids these days! Why does he even bother to wear pants?” It was horrifying. I’m becoming the grumpy old woman who yells at kids to stay off her lawn, and insists that music has all gone downhill since Perry Como passed away, God rest his soul.
On top of that, Ash asked me if I wanted to go down to Long Beach with some friends of ours last night to see a band that he’s interested in. He told me the show was at 11 PM, and my mind muttered, “What is he thinking? That would put us home after 2 AM! I haven’t stayed up that late since…” Again, horrifying. Next I’ll be saying things like, “Early to bed, early to rise…”
The weirdest part is, I’m kind of enjoying getting older. (Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to rush it.) I feel somehow liberated from the tyranny of cool. Why did I ever pretend in the first place that I liked staying out until the wee hours? The tyranny of cool. Why did I suppress my opinion on embarassing trends like lowriders and G-strings? The tyranny of cool.
It’s not that I’ve abandoned cool altogether…though to be realistic, I’ve never really harnessed it in the first place. I’m just starting to marvel at how it has ruled my life with alternating benevolence and malevolence for a good, solid number of years. Is cool really the highest pursuit? Is it really worth all the energy and investment I’ve put in? Here’s the other thing: I think I’ve been all too eager to write anything off as “uncool” and have that be the end of the argument, as if cool has the last word on value. Praise choruses? Uncool. Tie clips? Uncool. Topical preaching? Uncool. Clapping on 1 and 3? Uber-uncool. How arrogant and ignorant! I hope getting older will cure me of both.