The Death of Cool

Cool passed away today in Burlington. Cool was survived by two thirty something's with kids. They couldn't stay for the service as they had to get to soccer practice, but sent a nice note and flower arrangement. In their note, they vowed to go out on "date-nights" once a month to remember Cool and their former relationship with their since deceased friend and partner. The cause of death was complications from a long struggle with domesticity. It's health took serious blows following a large mortgage, graduation from law school and the birth of two children. The fatal blow was dealt when the Pilot was brought home and subsequently parked next to the Accord.

I had one of those how lame am I moments earlier this week. I was mowing in the grass, and I looked in the driveway and took note of my wife and I's cars. Two Hondas. Now don't get me wrong, Hondas are great cars. Dependable, affordable, good gas mileage and very, very practical. Not to mention completely, helplessly and utterly uncool.

There's the problem. It's kinda like shoes. Sometime, you need a cool, snazzy pair of shoes. Something strappy perhaps for the ladies, something shiny for the men. You know, for that big night out. Driving a Pilot or Accord is like always wearing sensible shoes no matter the occasion. Comparable with wearing tennis shoes with a suit(in non ironic fashion), or flats with a really nice dress. But flats and gym shoes are all we have to wear...everyday....for the foreseeable future. Driving an Accord isn't exciting, it isn't cool. How could it be? Its a 4 door sedan produced in the hundreds of thousands! You get confused in parking lots because there's a million other cars just....like...yours. Which implies, that said occupants of all those cars, are really nothing special either.

I've never had a cool car. I went from heaps of junk to a sedan my company paid for. Kinda like going from Pro-Wings to Rockports. The Accord is the business causal of automobiles. My wife had a Mustang at one point, but the way she drives it would be wasted on her now. (She has a chronically light right foot.) She used to have a Jeep, which I guess was a little more hip than a Pilot. After the Jeep passed on, perhaps it knew we no longer had what it took to be "Jeep" people, we purchased a Pilot. A Pilot is an SUV for people who don't like the look of minivans, but still have to haul kids and soccer equipment around. It even has a column shifter. It's the Mom-Mobile.

So staring right back at me, as I paused mowing the yard, was Business Causal and Mom Jeans with a Applique Sweater. I wanted to argue, "But we're so much more than that!" But the people driving by had their windows rolled up, and all they saw was a bald guy mowing the lawn in front of a nice house with two Hondas in the driveway.