Discovering your inner coolness
David Barrett
Notre Bum
I've been getting it a lot lately: "Dave, how can I be cooler?"
My guess is that it's the time of year when people really try to change for the better, which has them chasing the all-elusive unicorn of coolness. Appropriately, they come to me. Long have I wrestled with the spandex-ed beast in hopes of pinning him down. Long have I been unable to. Sadly, there is no recipe for cool. But if there was, I bet it would have paprika in it, and maybe a hint of dill.
Anyway, how can you be cooler? Write this down.
Stop listening to Nickelback, now. Embrace all things Jamaican, and only donate to Jamaican charities. If you are a guy, and you respect yourself, burn that turtleneck sweater. Kick anybody you see wearing one, and the person next to them. Instead, stock up on mock-turtlenecks — they are way cooler (www.landsend.com — I like the heather). Name your bike, if you haven't already, but please remember to wear a helmet and stay on the sidewalks. Re-name your girlfriend. Don't come to my house claiming house beer if you don't live in my house. Avoid excessive punctuation. Really, what does the extra exclamation point accomplish, or the question mark-exclamation point-question mark sandwich?!? Right. Nothing.
Plant a tree. Watch it grow. Do us all a favor and hang up the rollerblades. Honestly, this isn't the cul-de-sac, folks. Get a hover-board, or anything at all that has hovering capabilities. Get practical, people. Get with it.
The list goes on. Of course, you may be unwilling to part ways with the turtleneck sweater, or the rollerblades or the Nickelback. This is really too bad. There is nothing more excruciating than watching a loved one go down that path. I've seen it a hundred times. I've seen many a great man fall victim to the charms of No Fear and the Gap. Been there, wrecked that? Hey, wussy boy? We've all worn the shirts, and some of us still do. But for your own sake, stop now.
As a big brother, all I've really ever wanted was for my younger siblings to turn out cool. It breaks my heart to wake up to the sounds of my little sister rapping in the shower.
"The NORE album is sick, bro."
What? Huh?
I just don't want people to misunderstand her. We're from the Midwest — the "burbs" — raised on James Taylor and trips to the Smoky Mountains. We're VH1 and CMT. I ate breakfast opposite a little brother known by friends as the "thug-master." Maybe I shouldn't blame them, though. Maybe I should blame myself. "The Little Mermaid" is way too high on my all-time list for me to be blame-free. I had a tech-vest, once. My first album was a boot-stomping Billy Ray Cyrus success. "The Lion King" was my middle school soundtrack. I played far too much kickball and have the grass stains to prove it. I grew up, though, and moved on.
Where did I go wrong? Where were my role models? Happy hour, that's where. Everyday, I'd come home from school, relax to a snack of Fig Newtons and turn to the tube for a quick lesson in cool. We got J.T. from Step-by-Step and Eddie Winslow from Family Matters. We got Saved By The Bell. I looked to Belding's brother, who promised white-water rafting to Bayside, only to be disappointed. I looked to the movies and Robin of Locksley. Not only was he one cool dude who stole from the rich to give to the poor, commanded an army of woodsmen against the Sheriff of Nottingham and won the love of the fair maid Marion, but in the end I just couldn't apply his coolness to my own life. I needed something more, something modern. I was lost.
Just as I worry about my little brother and sister turning out cool, as I'm sure they will, my older brother and sister must have worried about me. They went through the same stages, some of them, and turned out cool enough. So maybe there is hope after all. My big brother once said, "Cool is doing your own thing, being individual, and being different." I really don't know how better to describe it. Even though I despise the year-round roller-bladers, there is something to be said for their dedication, their great skill and their unwavering individuality. Even the un-cool can be cool if that's your thing. (Though I must mention that throwing elbows in the omelet line is the exception. Don't do that.)
So my advice to you is this: If you have a younger brother or sister, maybe even an older one, who has yet to come around, just be patient. Maybe try to introduce him or her to Robin Hood. Other than that, though, it's pretty much out of your hands.
As for you, I can't keep you from listening to bad music or wearing turtleneck sweaters, though I strongly advise against it. Just be yourself. Please, just be cool.
David Barrett is a junior economics and philosophy major. He apologizes to, and for, his family. His column appears every other Monday. Contact him at barrett.43@nd.edu.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Monday, December 9, 2002
