Too Cool

Too Cool

Too Cool

When I was a teen, the greatest estimation of how cool and popular you were was how big of a herd you wandered in at the local mall. Being filled with angst and a desire to be accepted as most teens are, I always wanted to hang out at the mall. But, of course, being fat, wearing glasses and basically being poor as well as being classified as a "geek", it was a lost cause. I simply wasn't cut out to be in the popular crowd. It bothered me sometimes. There were other times that I watched them and marveled at just how vapid and inane they were. Yet, still, I so wanted their acceptance so that I wouldn't feel like the trash my abusive father always told me I was. After all, everyone in school looked up to them and wanted to them even if no one really knew WHY. The whole thing was disappointing and it was only with a lot of difficulty that I managed to keep these experiences in social cannibalism from crushing me to nothing all the way into adulthood.

The older I got, the less time I spent in the mall. It came to be a place I only went to when it was the ONLY place to get something I wanted or needed rather deperately. I just couldn't take the way the kind of people who hung out in the mall looked at me. I'm ashamed to say it was an act of cowardice. I wrote it off as just not wanting to pay high prices and deal with snobby jerks. But, really, it was just plain weariness and not wanting to deal with it anymore. This went on for a number of years. In fact, other than once to go get new glasses and once to meet friends of my fiance while on vacation in West Virginia, I hadn't been in an actual shopping mall for going on about ten years. Neither instance had exactly been my idea. In fact, I found I still had an aversion just to the sheer noise and crowds. Yet it's not really the crowds. I have no issue with going to a Pagan Night Out where there's a crowd. I have no issue with getting up in front of a horde of people to beat on some drums. Camping with 300-500 Pagans (some of whom run around stark naked) doesn't make me bat an eyelid. There was just something about the mall that turned my stomach and I figured why go someplace I detest.

Recently, I got another exposure to the mall. I have the ill luck to still be fat. Thus it became necessary to brave the mall in the quest for swimwear so I can get some exercise over the summer since my old suit has seen better days. It's too big on me because I've lost a precious little weight and it's more than three years old anyway. It needs to go. Unfortunately, a lot of stores seem to not realize that more than fifty percent of the population is overweight and still cater to the toothpick people. So, off to the mall we went because there's a store there that caters to those of us who are larger. It was still as loud, bright and obnoxious as I remembered. But there was something missing. Once upon a time it seemed like it had this magical air to it, as if dreams could come true in that boisterous, shiny place. This time, as I looked around, it was with amusement bordering on disdain. The once magical air just fell flat. It was nothing more than overt consumerism snapping up garbage no one really needs. There, scurrying about like sheep in high heels and make-up, were exactly the same sort of children I had once wanted to be accepted by. They still smirk in distaste at anyone who doesn't seem to meet their version of perfection. They seemed taken aback when I, in my leather hippy sandals, denim shorts and tee, just smirked right back as if they were cockroaches I might stomp on and of little consequence to me. A play of emotions went over their faces tinged with curiosity as they wondered who I might be that I was so unruffled by them despite their large numbers. Surely I must be someone important to act like that. Then it ended in a fearful look as they seemed to wonder if maybe they were acting ugly to someone who might matter somehow. By then I was just moving along, doing my usual trick of moving through a crowded place at a decent speed without touching a single person.

I watched them play the little games that go with herd mentality and corporate brainwashing. They flitted from shop to shop showing off their purchases to their peers as if they somehow made them special in spite of the fact that thousands of others just like them owned the exact same thing. More and more I laughed at this foolish pageantry. It set me to thinking about how far I've come and how I've grown and developed as a person. Once upon a time I was as drawn by the hype as they were. Now I'm to a point where commercials annoy me and I generally don't by things I see hyped unless it's something that may be a better fit than something I'm already using. If it has no practical use, I don't want it. I despise the apparently fashionable "retro ugly as hell" look that all the herd folks seem to be gobbling up like candy. It's putrid to me. The stuff was ugly the first time around. Why the hell would I want to subject myself to those things again after having to suffer through having them forced on me as a child? I realized that all of the posturing and trying to fit in was really just human foolishness that, in the end, has no real use. The minuscule bits of status gained in school, or at work, or at the mall are meaningless. They don't make you a better human being. They don't make you special. In fact, in the end, they just make you a faceless blur in the chaotic flow of madness the human race has become. As Shakespeare reckoned, it's a lot of sound and fury signifying absolutely nothing.

The more I thought about it upon coming home, I realized that I became a hundred times more happy in my life when I finally said "To hell with this stupid shit. I am me. I will always be me and I don't care what other people think of me as long as I am who I want to be." That epiphany brought about the resistance to mass media and advertising. It brought about new realms of personal growth I had never thought to see. It literally changed the core fiber of my personality. Now, instead of craving acceptance by a herd, I am comfortable enough in my own skin to join them or be without them as the flow of life allows. More and more, though, the overall banality and stupidity of the average human in the world makes me quite particular as to which herds I join for company. I've learned with age that quality is far better than quantity. I've learned that what I have isn't as important as who I am and what I do. I've learned that the greatest happiness has nothing to do with what's outside of you. It's all about what's inside. These days I'm laughing even more because a day came I never thought I'd see in my lifetime. The day came when I, geek that I still am and always will be, am far too cool for the mall.