Boy, don't I know it! Now, I am self-aware enough to realize I've never really been "cool," but the me that exists now is seriously less cool than the me I once was . . . which might mean I am now lost in a black hole of non-coolness, destined to define the apex of anti-cool.
For example, I wanted to take a picture of the minivan, but my cell phone is so old and basic that it doesn't even have a camera feature.
(And, yes, I just searched "Saved by the Bell" and "cell phone." Not very cool.)
I'm 34, I have three boys, and I wear robot t-shirts. I would not say I'm aging like a fine wine--perhaps more expiring like a gallon of chocolate milk--but aging, I am.
I find myself frequently questioning the age appropriateness of teenage drivers. They all look twelve to me. Do their mothers know they took the car out? And how did that other kid get a job? Aren't child labor laws enforced?
Of course, there's other signs, too. My music library is primarily 80's music--I often find myself not understanding a lot of today's lyrics. Are they speaking English? Am I supposed to know what they're saying?
And a good time to me is having a John Hughes' film marathon . . . maybe even in the middle of the week!
I suppose I could continue to list my aging, non-cool attributes at length, but here's my main takeaway: There are other people in the world who only "used to be cool," too.
In fact, there's a whole website for us: www.iusedtobecool.com. Maybe you'll see me in a "I used to be cool" robot t-shirt one of these days. You never know.
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