This is true for a number of reasons, not limited to the following:
1. I have stopped trying to keep up with trends, music, movies, etc.
2. I don't have a Blackberry, iPhone, or similar device.
3. I increasingly choose sleep over other, cooler activities.
4. I have only a vague idea of what Twitter is.
5. I am currently helping to plan my 10 year high school reunion. (This will become important later.)
Considering how uncool I have just proven myself to be, I thought it was an accomplishment when I found myself going to a bar on Friday night with every intention of staying until they closed the place down. I have been working and out of town so much that it has been quite a while. I thought I looked good and was seriously pulling off my cool facade.
I went in support of my cousin Daniel's band, Short Version of a Long Day (
http://www.myspace.com/shortversionofalongday). They are a metal band, as were all of the bands that went on that night. There was a mosh pit and a girl broke her nose! I was really getting into it when, out of nowhere, reality dealt quite a blow. I was talking to another cousin about the mosh pit/nose breaking incident. We had both moshed in the past and agreed that we didn't feel any need to do it again. She asked when I had last been in a mosh pit. "Hard Rock Rockfest at the Atlanta Motor Speedway," I told her. "Cool, when was that?" It was right after I graduated from high school. "That was innnnnn. . .1999," I answered. She laughed. Hard.
My cool facade was unravelling fast. I suddenly realized how much I stood out in my dark wash jeans (no holes), my black heels, and my green satin shirt.
Most of the patrons looked like this:
Actual photo of girls at "The Haven"
Further detracting from any cool points I might have had was the fact that most of my family was there including aunts, uncles, cousins, and MY PARENTS. (Those of you who have ever seen or heard of my dad are laughing.) In truth, I thought some of the "music" was just noise. One uncle said the vocals sounded, "like Godzilla roaring," which was true. I thought they were using more profanity than was necessary to get their point across, and grew tired of hearing the command, "Drink, bitches! Get intoxicated!" coming from the stage. I didn't like the smoke and wasn't drinking for fear it would interfere with my workout the next day. All this leads us back to where we started. I'm not cool anymore. And that's okay.
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