Turn The Volumn Up

encore'

Life is getting more surreal by the moment.  In fact, it’s gone far enough.  I’m beginning to question whether my serotonin levels are off.  Take my family dinner Sunday evening, for example.  The adult conversation consisted of a five minute description of flan, fork jewelry, and geriatric pet sympathy.  Then I learned my mother’s car was making a noise on the way to the restaurant.  Of course, I asked her what kind of noise.  She didn’t know because she turned the radio up so she didn’t have to hear it.  I don’t even know what to say to that.

Incredulously, I shifted my attention to the teen conversation my nine year old was having with her college age cousin.  It included ‘portals to Hades’ and ‘creepers that explode’.  I was, needless to say, alarmed.  Then I figured out they were talking about Minecraft.  I am not ashamed to say I don’t know what Minecraft is, and if not for my daughter’s interest, could happily go a lifetime without finding out.

First, the fact I didn’t know got me called COOL.  In my world, this is both true and a good thing.  Apparently, however, cool no longer means, you know, me.  Now it stands for constipated, overweight, out of style loser.  Given this definition, I am not cool because for the record, I am not constipated.  Call it a technicality if you want, but a man needs some solace, and while mine may only be due to fiber intake, it will suffice because it’s all I have.

Second, I now unfortunately know way too much about Minecraft.  I know about the flooding problems and the black ooze from Hades.  I know how much better it is on Xbox than an iPod.  Oh yes, I know too much.  But I don’t know enough to make me a jerk.  I am not a genius, educated, rich kid, and I don’t think it was my age that disqualified me.  And while I may not be rich, by third grade standards I’m like that guy from Monopoly holding the money bags.  My education doesn’t seem to be in question, either.  I have graduated elementary school.  No, it seems my genius is in doubt.  Not a problem, really, except genius starts with a ‘g’, not a ‘j’, which makes JERK an oxymoron anyway.  Surreal.