Who says you’re not a rock star?

May 18th, 2005 by Oskar Kennedy

  My friend Sara (who you all should meet because she’s awesome) just turned 28 this weekend, and she’s starting to feel the creeping onset of adult obsolescence. I guess she figured I’d know how to handle it, since I’ve been almost thirty for what seems like half my life. I think I helped her feel better, and I thought I would share it in case any of you are wondering if it’s still possible to be cool if you’re not rich and famous by your mid-twenties. 

Subject: so, it turns out i’m not a rock star

so, this past saturday i 
turned 28 years old.
everything was going quite well.  i got to hang out
with katey for an ENTIRE weekend.  i got a new wiffle
ball set.  it was just about perfect.

then it hit me…

 i was no longer 27, i was 28.  morrison, hendrix,
joplin, kurt cobain – none of these people ever lived
to see their 28th birthday yet here i was.  up until
this point in my life, i had considered myself one of
the club.  i lived hard and was content to die young.
but somehow i had awoken the same as any other day.
 
that’s when i realized the following things:

1.  my hair no longer stands up straight

2.  i am sporting my natural hair color

3.  i can’t remember the last time i had a hangover

and to top it all off…

4.  i’m a freaking doctors wife.

i am so not cool.  was i ever cool?

This was my answer:

  Think about it like this. Cool isn’t an innate property. Like any other personality or character trait, it’s a product of a subconscious agreement between the person who exhibits the behavior, and the people who observe it. In other words, you can’t be cool in a vacuum. There have to be people around to believe that you’re cool.

  Now, let’s go through your list. Who really thinks those people are cool anymore? I mean yeah, they all had a huge effect on rock music at some point, but who really sits around spontaneously saying “wow, man, I really love (insert dead musician here)?” Mostly it’s aging hipsters, who vaguely remember that fleeting moment when they were at the forefront of the social scene. Or, it’s teenage poseurs, who seem to believe that they’re the only people who’ve ever felt their frustrations mirrored in popular songs. There are also lots of rock critics, but they have their heads jammed so far up their collective ass that I’m pretty sure they can’t hear anyway.

  Point it, nobody worth knowing spends a lot of time being impressed by dead entertainers. You might think about them with fleeting fondness, but if you sit around pining for them, chances are you’re a big loser.

  Who thinks you’re cool? I think you’re cool, and I’m the freaking awesomest person I know. Let’s agree to agree that you’re great. If you want to dye your hair or get drunk, I’ll bring the peroxide and the tequila. Otherwise, just keep on being cool, and I’ll keep on thinking you’re awesome. Deal?

spread the panic!
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