Not Cool
Learning not to care what people think about me.
When I was a boy, I determined that the best, most desirable quality I could possess was to be cool. That word had only recently entered the popular vernacular, largely, as far as I could tell, thanks to the character of Arthur Fonzarelli, The Fonz, portrayed by Henry Winkler in the 70’s sitcom Happy Days. I didn’t want to be The Fonz, but lord did I want to be cool. To be handsome or a good athlete or smart seemed attainable and commonplace. Coolness, however — that confidence born not of skill or achievement but simply not caring what others thought of you — was elusive.
I spent a lot of time wondering what other people thought of me. It seemed important for reasons I couldn’t possibly articulate. Plus, I was very emotional, prone to outbursts and melodrama. A cool guy keeps it together. So, I knew I wasn’t cool.
But then again, as I looked around me, I couldn’t find a living example of coolness in my world. Sometimes I’d see a guy, usually someone older than I, who seemed to have found his inner Fonz. Then I’d meet him, get to know him a little, and I’d learn he was just a person, with all the usual human strengths and weaknesses, doubts and desires.
