Tag Archives: The Cool Kids

There’s Always One

wrenchToday in the car I was behind a school bus. The kids looked young – maybe 4th graders – probably off to day camp. A bunch of boys were in the back seats. Aren’t they always? These are the kids that want to feel older, cooler. At the stop light one of them peeked around his seat and waved at me. I smiled back and they all started elbowing each other and laughing and pointing to him and who knows what they were saying.

This reminded me of a time when I was in grad school in the 80s and I was walking towards a pack of middle school boys who were murmuring and kind of circling and then one of them pulled away from the group and came walking towards me with a wrench fastened onto his crotch. He was swaggering and thrusting his hips out and the rest of the bunch were laughing and saying things like, Oh man and Holy shit! And when we got close to each other I looked at the kid and without batting an eyelash said, If you ever want to have children you might not want to do that. He look shocked and thrilled and embarrassed and in love. And he swaggered back to his posse and they were grunting and hooting and shuffling around like a herd of buffalo.

When I was younger, I spent a lot of time around adolescent boys. I worked in a residential treatment center for emotionally troubled youth ages 12-16. I taught at an all boys high school. I grew up with 3 brothers. Boys individually are completely different than boys in a group. And in a group there is always one kid who will do the ridiculous or stupid or scary thing that all the rest of them may want to do or not want to do or hope no one does.

I wonder about those kids. Do they grow up to be CEOs or bank robbers? Rebels just for kicks? Are they dads with boys just like them? Do they become the ones who make all the social plans? Or do they get tired of being The One. Do they become quiet and drink a lot? Are they just average, rarely noticed, unrecognizable at class reunions?

I know there are girls like this too, but it’s more obvious with boys. I was never The One. But I remember in Middle School a girl who was in a much cooler crowd than me wrote in my autograph book (yes, we had autograph books – why I don’t know – maybe I’m so old the Yearbook hadn’t been invented), you are a blast at sleepovers.

Why in the world would she write that? First, I think I went to one sleepover that she was at and I can’t imagine how I even got invited. And secondly, I was not a risk taker, wore ugly glasses, had old lady pajamas, and never made it up past 11:00. If anything, I was the one trying to fly under the radar. Just smart enough, just funny enough, just enough friends, without being noticed too much. Certainly not The One and not even The Two or The Three.

And that hasn’t changed much. It’s probably why this writing thing is so damn hard. Those of you flying under the radar for a lifetime know what I mean. You have to be The One when you write. And when you publish, you have to come out of hiding (and by this I mean hiding in plain sight as in your day job or family  or common citizen type-stuff) and move your plane right into the line of fire.

This is the struggle – part of it at least. The other part, well that’s just getting my butt in the chair and doing the daily work. Maybe after enough days at it, enough hard work, you just morph into The One. I should try to find out.

Ooh woo, I’m a rebel just for kicks, now
I been feeling it since 1966, now
Might’ve had your fill, but you feel it still
Ooh woo, I’m a rebel just for kicks, now
Let me kick it like it’s 1986, now
Might be over now, but I feel it still
-Portugal the Man

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