Friday, September 19, 2008

So out of it




We saw a commercial last night advertising some huge event on the Disney Channel that featured a lineup of "huge pop stars." They rattled off a list of names and I could not identify a single celebrity mentioned.

I know that the Disney Channel isn't necessarily the apotheosis of cool but it just further illustrates that I am getting older and more out of touch with what is in. I can't help but recall the Simpsons Hullabalooza episode and Homer's flashback of Abe saying: "I used to with it. But then they changed what it was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and what's it seems weird and scary."

Susan and Cass both agreed that we were growing away from what was considered hip. I never was into pop but I at least knew who the top acts were.

Who the hell is Zac Effron?

I told Cass and Sooz that the people of our generation at least have the option of becoming a hipster douche and just judging what everyone else thought was cool. I personally can't afford a new wardrobe, and because mine is most certainly not hip it would be necessary to pull the transition off, so I am therefore relegated to just getting older and more out of touch.

I don't really mind. I'll just back out of the room, double middle fingers in the air, and scream "Wildcard, bitches!!!"

We leave for Spain on Tuesday. I'm excited. It's great that so many of our friends are taking off on adventures right now. When we are done we will have to come together and write a book. Jay gets dibs on the beatnik wanderer portion.

2 comments:

Dave said...

It's hip to be square.

Colyn said...

Actually Caleb, if you want to change your wardrobe to the hipster style you legally can't spend a dime. You see Section 4, Article 2 of the hipster constitution clearly dictates that all garmets adorning one's hip body, must be donated, found, stolen, passed down, or have once belonged to a musician. There is, however a clause allowing the purchase of clothing, only from resale or vintage shops, with money found on the street. So next time I see you I expect painted on, faded jeans and a horizontal stripped sweater. Oh, and you can't wash your hair.