No. He wasn’t through being cool. The fellow in the pork-pie chapeau and Doc Holliday glasses had a lot to learn before full divestiture. The K Records pin on his messenger bag was the first indication that somewhere in the back of his ironic mind, he still wanted to appear hip and trendily obscure. This became painfully clear to him as he rode the L train from Williamsburg to Manhattan this morning en route to Kim’s Video, his day job (no doubt he spun discs nights at any one of the Vasser or Bennington alum lounges in the vicinity of Bedford Avenue).
The next indication was his failed attempt at appearing as if he wasn’t eavesdropping on our conversation. We had his slack-jawed attention at your mention of Lenny K and the MC5. As we, in our slick urban professional attire, deftly negotiated our morning chit-chat through a series of sophisticated fashion and musical touchstones ranging from what the girls are wearing to the business of one-night stands to the New Traditionalists, he stood dumbfounded. How could this be? He had the hat, the thrift-store tweed blazer, and the oversize headphones in his messenger bag. Yet these yuppies, with their oblique references and nimble cynicism, were light years ahead of him. Now, something seemed missing from his life. Assumptions had been shattered.
Somehow I think our young friend will began a thorough evaluation of his life, his day job at Kim’s, his affiliation with K, his passion for spinning campy, inappropriately timed retro tracks. In short, ?It’s time to show those evil spuds what’s what.?