My older sister knew everything about being cool and what being cool
meant. She knew what it meant to be going out with some one. One of
the requirements, perhaps ironically, was not to have actually gone
out with them in the sense that you went and did something together
as a couple. She did however have a quite extensive hand written
list of other rules and restrictions of what a couple and each
individual in the couple could or could not do to remain a couple.
It was awesome. I read the list but I was not sure what it meant it
was like some beautiful foreign language that only the initiates of
Junior High could decipher. I didn't have a girl friend but I wanted
to make sure that if I did have one that I knew what was the
protocols and jargon so I didn't look like a fool. My sister gave me
a long point by point run down with examples of real life, actually
hypothetical real life, situations in which each rule could be
interpreted. I loved it for two reasons: one, my sister was paying
attention to me in a positive way and two, I was learning the secrets
of what cool people knew and it was awesome. After she had to leave
to go and hang out with her friends I was a little elated at having
been brought into the theoretical circle of knowledge. I went and
laid down on my parents bed and looked up at the ceiling and ran
though imaginary situations of going out and being cool. I even
devised a plan to be cool in the proximal future and to get a
girlfriend with whom I would perform every obligation and nuance of
coupleship with out error. This is why you should never embrace
theory in a vacuum because you can forget critical practical
implications of your real life as it pertains to your new fantasy.
The main problems were that I was still a massive nerd and I was
still desperately uncool and planning out a strategy to be cool was
not what cool people did. For that afternoon I could dream and get a
little euphoric at the implications of my new found popularity and
that was a good feeling while it lasted.
