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High school: the center of all things lame
It's got to be the lamest place on the face of the Earth and therefore anyone trapped in its horrid halls has got to be pretty darn lame. The sooner you realize this truth, the better off you'll be.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I poured myself a glass of Shiraz the other night and cracked open my old high school senior year book.
As I flipped through its antique, yellowing pages, I recalled what I've known for years: boy, those people were lame.
My schoolmates' shoes were lame. Their clothes were lame. The hairs growing out of their empty undeveloped heads were lame.
Why did I ever long for their friendship when I had a Atari game system at my disposal?
Oh yeah, I was pretty lame, that's why.
I was a lame little flat-chested nerd with braids that went in too many directions.
At one point, this former teacher's pet and most likely to succeed had a braid helmet that made me look like a cross between Frankenstein and a melon.
I was Melonstein.
Not that I am particular cool now, but back then, I was a geeky oddball straight from inner space.
"Family Ties" was my best friend.
My little reflection is particularly poignant as my niece, the strange little wisenheimer that once spit up on my arm, will soon enter her senior year of high school.
She thinks she's pretty cool and that's great, I guess.
But hopefully a few years from now, she'll look back at high school and see the truth: she's lame and so are her lame friends.
Hopefully my little buttercup will adjust well to this realization.
The truth is everyone was lame back in high school. Even people like Matt Dillon, Iggy Pop and Michelle Obama were infected with the lameness germ.
High school has got to be the lamest place on the face of the Earth and therefore anyone trapped in its horrid halls has got to be pretty darn lame.
The sooner you realize this truth, the better off you'll be.
Even the cool high school kids aren't really all that cool because, hello, they are in high school and high school, dare I say, is lame.
In high school kids are so busy trying to fit in that they can't possibly know who or what they are.
So buck up, lame high school weirdos. If you're lucky, one day you'll master your super power.
Like wine, you'll get better with age.
Or at the very least, you'll be able to look back and see how totally lame your high school classmates were.
Contact this columnist at (937) 225-2384 or arobinson@DaytonDailyNews.com.
