I’ve recently concluded that I am not cool anymore. Not hip, not “with it,” not rad (my use of those words should be your first clue). Current language, technology, entertainment, fashion all make me feel like I just fell off my dinosaur into a pit of stupid.
I came to this jaw-dropping conclusion while watching the Grammys. I quite literally did not know 99.9 percent of the artists who were nominated.
Bad Bunny? Childish Gambino? Are these artists or board games? I felt a bit redeemed when I did recognize one artist—Dolly Parton (who is 73 years old.)
I used to be up with current technological trends. I had a MySpace account and everything. Granted, I didn’t know how to use it, but I had one. I used to chat via AIM.
Then I got Facebook and eventually Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat. Having these accounts, however, does not make you automatically cool. First of all, I have no clue how to post stuff on Snapchat. Not sure what to do with Twitter, either. I do know how to use Facebook and Instagram, though. So maybe I’m 50 percent cool. OK, maybe 25 percent.
I texted my son Donnie the other night, asking how to download free music. He immediately called me and said that streaming is the way to go. Streaming. To me, streaming meant what happens when one’s hot water heater springs a leak, or what blood does when one hits one’s head on a cabinet door.
I just started using the phrase “binge-watching” with great pride (I do know how to use Netflix). I know what it means when someone is talking about “Birdbox.” I am aware that they are not referring to a way to transport a parrot to the vet. I know that “Twin Peaks” is not a brassiere store.
Beauty trends confuse me nowadays. It used to be that foundation, blush, mascara and maybe some eyeshadow on one’s face were enough for one to be considered presentable.
But now? Microblading? I figured that microblading meant that someone was skating on really small ice skates. Turns out that microblading is actually a semi-permanent tattooing of tiny strokes on the skin under eyebrows, to improve their appearance. Who knew?
And the slang these days? It’s cray. That means crazy, for those of you who are less cool than me. (Okay, I googled it). How about “squad goal?” I thought that meant that the whole soccer team took the credit for a goal scored during a game. Wrong. It is actually a type of behavior that a group of friends aspire to.
“Your shirt is snatched” does not indicate that the shirt has been stolen. It means that something is “on fleek.” And “on fleek” means that something is good, nice or great.
Yeah. Bet you didn’t know that. (Googled it). I’m all “trill” with the current slang (true+real=trill).
Salty. Salty, to me, means, well, something with salt on or in it. No. Not today.
“Salty” evidently means that someone is bitter or aggravated. How about “ship?” No, it’s not a water vessel or when you a send package to someone. Shipping is when fans root for two characters in a story to be in a romantic relationship.
And here’s another thing. WHY are jeans that have holes in them so popular? If I rip my jeans, that’s the end of them.
I’m done wearing them unless it’s to do yard work. But here’s the kicker: there are TWO kinds of ripped jeans. Oh, yes. There are distressed jeans and destroyed jeans.
Distressed jeans are where you can see the inside of the material and the white threads and little peeks of skin. Destroyed jeans have gaping holes where you can clearly see skin. Like, you can get sunburn through those holes, that’s how big they are. I don’t understand the attraction.
But here’s the good thing about being uncool: it’s freeing. It’s not living up to anyone’s standards but your own. It’s “doing you.” (That’s a current cool phrase.)
It’s not caring what trends are, not following the crowd, not conforming. It’s being yourself and being okay with that.
On second thought, I’m kinda loving my uncoolness. Yep. I love me just the way I am.
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