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by Ron Cruger
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"I'm definitely not cool!"
2008 Spectator Ron - The Spectator All Rights Reserved
The whole thing snuck up on me. I didnít feel anything happening,
but year after year it was taking its toll. My first awareness was four years ago, when I checked out the nominees for the annual
Billboard Awards and realized I recognized very few of the names on the lists. Seems like yesterday that I had recognized most of
the singers, groups and entertainers, but now the only names familiar to me are given ďLifetime Achievement AwardsĒ and their grandchildren
are in the audience applauding as the aged winners accept their trophies.
I was turning the dial on my radio, when it really hit me. The local news had ended and the disc jockey introduced a new tune by Eminem.
I listened to the first few bars and found it terminally unpleasant. It was the first time I had actually heard the wildly popular
Eminem talk a song. From what I could understand the song was filled with bathroom humor, misogynism and some other things of which
I didnít understand.
It must be me, I thought. Iím definitely not
I took off my shoes, stretched out in my recliner and thought about
the things I donít have and donít do that make me un-cool.
I donít like Eminem. The guy and his music are at best annoying and irritating. In fact, I donít get anything out of the whole of
hip-hop/ rap thing. I came to the conclusion that I come from another time, another place.
I think those baggy, bulky cargo pants are very unattractive to the wearer. And seeing someone walk ahead of me with his pants barely
clinging to his rear seems not only extremely uncomfortable to the wearer but not very fashionable, considering that I can see some
kidís butt staring at me.
Iíve never seen the coolness of
wearing a baseball cap backwards. Whatís the idea behind that? If you donít like the idea of having a bill on your cap why not just
wear a beanie?
There are so many things I donít do. I donít
whip out my cell phone while in line at Ralphís and share my conversation with others waiting to check out, inviting their ire and
nasty, exasperated looks.
I donít drive a mammoth SUV
that looks like a condo on wheels. I know some homeless people who would love to call a giant Lincoln Navigator their home.
I donít go to Starbuckís and drink $4 cups of coffee and I donít wear $125 Nike sneakers.
Shirts with designer logos on them donít suit me. Why pay $45 for a nice shirt with a conspicuous advertisement for the maker
on the front? They should pay me.
Maybe I should, but I donít count
carbohydrates. I havenít read The South Beach Diet and The Atkinís Diet, with its pork rind snacks and unlimited strips of bacon throw
fear into my heart and my aorta.
Somebody tell me what the
big deal is about SpongeBob SquarePants. I feel sorry for Martha Stewart and I donít get a kick out of all the swearing on television.
Iím starting to object to the silly salaries being paid to our athletes. Iím all for these jocks getting well-paid, but giving a baseball
player $25 million bucks a year seems a bit of over-doing it. I donít think itís defendable to have a millionaire basketball player
dash into the stands to bash a spectator or two.
So, Iím not cool. So, Iím an old-fashioned guy.
If I have to like
listening to Eminem talk a song or wear cargo pants or wear my cap backwards or drive my car with a cell phone stuck in my ear I guess
Iíll never be cool.
Right now Iím going to do something I think
is cool. Iím going to sit down in my comfortable recliner , turn on the old stereo and listen to some Sinatra.
I think heís cool.