By a factor of cool

As I walked by a table in the food court today on my way for some generic yet tasty Subway, I wandered by a table who conversation I could not help but overhear. The lunch itself seemed to be going well, except for the snippet that said so much in so few words, “Can you get me some more chopsticks? These aren’t working.” This seems like an innocuous request, but it was enough to compel a look at least glance at the participants in that exchange.

The difference in appearance was, well less than striking, quite noticeable. She, clad in a popular sun dress cut of the past few years with a trendy yet retro attempt at a paisley pattern; he a 30ish year old with an outfit out the bizzaro child of a Dockers and Docksiders ad, with enough wear to replace the new clothes shine and with the worn look that teenagers pay 200% more for. She sporting a somewhat trendy cut, he couldn’t have spent more than $10 on his. Please note that description was provided not just for imagery because I couldn’t help but laugh a bit as I walked to the counter trying to make sense of how she may feel privileged to ask such a favor. At most the pair sat 20 feet away from two separate locations to retrieve more utensils, and the two of them seemed also to be in similar stages in their meal. The only difference that I could tell was that she definitely thought it was not unreasonable that her meal enjoyment should come before his, from some feeling of superiority or privilege.

Now I am all for chivalry and random acts of kindness do spread well beyond their epicenter, but this could only have been something of the form “My legs are too precious to spend steps of getting something that may work better, but yours will be fine.” Perhaps Daddy treated her like a princess, perhaps she has an eye for self-esteem issues, there’s even a chance she had a badly crippled wing that I simply could not see – the only way that her tone and words added up to anything was that she just knew that a plain and average Joe such as he would be insane not to replace the chop sticks that no longer suited her eating pleasure.

Which got me to thinking about a term that many of us geeks, nerds, dorks and other general awkwards are familiar with is the “cool kids”. While the definition changes over the generations, we all know who you are and what you do. Today you’re the guys with popped, ironed collars and slicked hair, who bathe in Jagerbombs with an entire can of Ax body spray to keep you smelling like, well, whatever a man’s supposed to smell like these days. The ladies here tend to run on the “use thigh to distract from the time I spent not creating a personality,” who stay a healthy shade of bulb orange all year round and aspire to be one of the girls from the Hills. For personality one thing seems to be constant – be the highest maintenance, most arrogant, trashy don’t-give-a-&%$#-cause-I-have-the-money-don’t-need-a-mind-cause-I’ll-find-a-patsy-to-make-me-feel-good.

I admit that the above person doesn’t sound at all that enticing when stereotyped that way, because I hoped to leave out the features of the cool crowd that we all wanted to be a part of. Whether it be High School crowd who had all the great parties, the Greek life with the most toys or the clique at the Office that always seems to have suits tailored from their uncashed paychecks, there will always be a crowd that feels superior and can back up these claims with the shiniest toys and most superficially attractive lifestyle of faux-leisure. While you may not look like anything I’ve described until now, you know who you are; you’re level of smug makes the air harder for the rest of us to breathe.

I promise I’m not bitter, the effort is more to speak to the problem of style without substance. Being human, and growing up in the United States especially, we are trained to want to be more than we are. The problem arises when we crave those features that others possess that we don’t – objects as opposed to features. I would like to think that we all want to better ourselves, and further that on the inside we are all a little ADD which leads us to seek specific rewards for our good work. As social beings the easiest way to achieve this is to receive some social capital for our efforts. It is much easier to suggest “Like me, I’m tan and I have boat” then “I am a xerophile*, shall I care to tell you more about my love?”

Now for those of you who really don’t care about external social rewards for who you are and what you have, I applaud you and most likely you never bothered to consider the cool kids because you were off feeding your nemophilia (love of woods and forests) or your passion for whatever made you happy. Kudos. For the rest of us it seems ingrained that we want to keep up with the Jones’ (or the Kardashians or the Gosselins if you’re incomprehensible to my little mind) and covet that neighbors greener yard. What I realized with the chopstick couple and why I was so intrigued was the difference between an authentic existence and the one we lust after is the desire for items that can break.

It may sound simple but try breaking integrity, or knowledge, or friendship, can it be done? Yes, but the only way to do it is to bring back in the desire for things that are truly breakable (more impermanent): cars, acquaintances, a killer tan etc. The personality that defines who we are, what we are instead of what we have, those are the things that we can carry with us and always know will be present. I’m in no way saying that attractive friends, a nice car and great stereo system aren’t fun toys, but if you’re left asserting your hand in a relationship by making your S.O. (significant other for those scoring at home) get you more chopsticks, perhaps a reconsideration of priorities is in order.

I realize now that what began as a moment of inspiration regarding how to understand those who have what we don’t yet want has blossomed into a larger project of what perhaps it is we should desire when we look towards others qua our own apprehension and consumption. I began wondering just what this gentleman sees in someone who doesn’t have 20 feet of walking if it means she has to get up; I am instead feel left with more questions than when I started. What relationship dynamics do we choose to undertake, and for what end? Are we even aware of these ends, and would making them transparent to ourselves change our behavior? How easily could we slide into the collar poppin’ trucker hat miniskirt top down holler out money in the bank lifestyle, and honestly what is so wrong with that, other than my personal distaste for the style over substance argument? For that matter, what of cultivating the ideas of integrity and personality and the less “breakable” qualities I pointed towards– is it not more important to fulfill your goals, whatever that may be?

I used to wonder if these questions were even important, but I think they’re the necessary next step in our evolution as both people and as a society. Since the Industrial Revolution, we have been afforded the opportunity to accumulate whatever we need assuming we have or can acquire the resources to attain what we want. We know what things are out there we cannot help but see them on TV, and billboards, and at sporting events, concert venue walls and every site that the internet seems to offer. Even inner peace has become a commodity – if the self-help market grew any larger it would require a self help manual on how properly help the self. We have all the things that we need, 20 times over, and in a future post I’ll share why I think we had all the stuff that we’ve needed we’ve had since the Renaissance; suffice it to say the only place we can truly break new ground is updating ourselves and our faculties. How is that not the new I-don’t-give-a&$%#? Pretty sure I’m the only one who has my particular sense of self expression, now look what it will do…

*For the record, Xerophilia is defined as the love of hot, dry places. Cheers.