Redefining Cool

I’m just not cool enough to be a Mac person. For $1,000, they only have one computer available, and that’s got a 13-inch screen. I need the 17-inch screen. Unfortunately, I don’t have the money to be cool. Sorry, Apple.

I suppose I’ll settle for Windows. Or maybe DOS.

I’m also not cool enough to be an iPhone person. They don’t have one that has high-speed web surfing, eight gigs of memory for music, unlimited texting and comes free with a one-year contract. I’ll go with AT&T’s model with something called “rotary dial” (it’s supposed to be touch sensitive).

I guess I’m not cool enough to be a Prius person. They don’t have one that gets 45 miles per gallon, has a built-in iPod jack, sunroof and costs less than $10,000, to say nothing about zero percent down and a $2,000 instant rebate. Hello, Metro.

Let’s not talk about what it takes to be a Diesel person, ‘cause I ain’t got it, and I’m not talking about the extra pounds that accrete with each passing year. I’m more of a three-pairs-of-Dockers-for-$50-at-Costco person.

I’m not cool enough to be an appletini person. Not at the Capital Grille. Even a soy milk frappuccino to go is a stretch. I’ll stick to Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers, on the Ikea Ektorp couch.

While we’re on the subject, it strikes me that I’m lacking in the cool department when it comes to pan-seared halibut steak, unagi sashimi or even hamburger from grass-fed cows shipped from an organic ranch within 100 miles to my local farmer’s market. Not for the $2 I’m willing to spend. But that 15-ounce can of Le Sueur Peas at Wal-Mart looks promising.

It’s occurred to me that coolness is getting pricey. College degrees used to be affordable and somewhat remarkable. To open doors nowadays you need a Technology Management MBA from Stanford and a first job at a microfinance Web 3.0 company in the developing world, preferably staffed entirely by locals paid sustainable wages, and whose profits support basic literacy programs for poor, doe-eyed, nine-fingered orphans with pet kittens. Guess I won’t be delivering the keynote at the next TED conference. For my money, I’m thinking community college, but I’m torn between “Discovering the Intertubes” or “Cooking with Le Sueur Peas,” both of which are taught by a guy named Ted in Renton. He does have a pet vole, though.

Worrying about coolness hasn’t been good for my heart, either. If I were cool, it wouldn’t be too much to have a minimally-invasive aortal stent and latex-free angioplasty, plus a private recovery room and bedside catering by a caring but intriguingly stern brunette nurse named Astrid. But medical care for me is more on the order of whisky, razor blades and leeches.

Finally, after cutting my expenses for cool stuff, I either have to settle for uncool or radically adjust my definition of cool downward (at least until poor is the new cool). But then I’d have to fend off all those rich people rushing in to co-opt the new cool. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that money always chases cool, not the other way around.

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