Being A Cool Kid Poem by Daniel Miltz

You're not born with cool, you've got to find it. A leather jacket that fits like a glove knows it. Cool is an act. Cool is by learning to stand out from the crowd, stay ahead of the game, and cultivate a cool image.

It all started by the time I was 13 years old.

I have memory of being a fast-moving teenager, driven by a heightened longing to impress friends. Indeed, brazen behavior earned me a blaze of popularity. By junior high school, my beefcake physique began to mature, readying myself to experiment with romance, even mild delinquency, and was accepted in the ''cool kid'' category.

At 14, my popularity soared, had numerous relationships, kissed more than 10 girls, flung personally into minor forms of trouble, surrounded myself with tough, good-looking friends, and started pumping iron, barbarically.

Single-handedly, I had a reputation to uphold, was learning to identify different trends, uncool crowds and tailoring my stylish groove accordingly.

Before I could position myself as a super-hip person worthy of envy; I really had to figure out what being cool means. Is this the right place for putting on shades and slouching? Is it the right time to talk about this and that? Then, I started bragging about things that I have done. I come about learning to put on a mysterious and experienced act that people were believing, while, practicing vague responses to specific questions about my experiences that were renegade. Acting 'way-out' means being different. I remember doing things that made me stand out from the crowd: like playing devil's advocate in group discussions and casual conversations.
There's one constant in the cool-fashion universe: sunglasses look awesome on everyone. I recall wearing dark sun-glasses all the time, snapping my fingers, retained a toothpick in my mouth, constantly-had my short sleeves rolled up, plus, continuously wearing an upturned collar. The pompadour cowlick and curls on my head, forever, inundated with greasy vaseline hair oil. Additionally, I was displaying a conceited, swaggering manner of moving about.

By the time high school came around, I learned to dress in black, hanging with groups of kids on the street corner to befriend, and be unflappable. Surrounded by my entourage, I have memories playing the game to remain aloof and be hip. If you come out too strong, you'll likely just make everyone think you're a weirdo, not cool. I recall always finding other quiet buddies to be 'wild' with - and position my small crew as the in-group.

I come off floating above the drudgery of the world in my super-cool cloud. ''Can't be a follower and act calm.'' I was creating fad, surprising people with my fresh outlook/opinions, and bucking the common wisdom.

I actually gave up being cool around my mid-thirties. That's when I realized that beneath the 'cool' exterior, I was mostly self-absorbed in my daily routine. Now somewhat secure in my 30s, I've opted to be more civil in my interactions with intelligent life-form, more conscious of my decision making, coupled with being more appreciative of the earthlings that I have met, basically: I HAVE BECOME MORE HUMAN.

© daniel miltz