Joanne Palmer: So not cool | SteamboatToday.com

Joanne Palmer: So not cool

Joanne Palmer

I am not cool.

I don’t have tattoos or pierced body parts. I think my belly button is cute; I don’t need to show it.

I’ve tried to be cool. I bought a pink Motorola Razor cell phone. It’s cool, but the operator isn’t. I hate to admit it: I do not know how to text message. I only know how to drive by someone’s house to see if they’re home.

I am not carrying the new, must-have $45,000 Luis Vuitton handbag. Whatever I need for the day fits nicely into a bag I bought at Ski Haus – partially paid for with Ski Haus bucks.

I’ve never downloaded a podcast. I have an iPod, but it does not plug into my car radio. Speaking of radios, I don’t have satellite, Sirus or XM radio.

I don’t wear cropped pants or flip-flops. Since I’m tall, that cropped pants thing makes it look like I can’t find pants long enough for me. My feet are too ugly for flip-flops.

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My son is cool conscious. His hair is long. He no longer allows any PDA (public displays of affection.) He picks out his own clothes in the morning and prefers T-shirts with the logo of AC/DC or Green Day on them. We’ve started to fight over music. When one of two songs we both like comes on in the car here’s what happens:

Son: “Turn it up!”

Me: “I like this song too. What do the lyrics, ‘soldiers dance for me,’ mean?”

Son: “I can’t explain it.”

Me: “Why not?”

Son (snorts): “Mom you have to just get it. Hey, don’t dance while driving. You’re embarrassing me.”

Me: “Whatever.”

Son: “It’s what-ev.”

Whatever.

I have never watched an episode of Desperate Housewives, Dancing with the Stars, American Idol or, if it’s still on, Survivor.

I don’t have a home theater, surround sound or HDTV. In fact, I had to ask my son what the initials meant (High Definition Television.) There’s no TiVo or plasma TV – just good old basic cable. My son says, “There’s nothing to do, nothing to watch, nothing.”

To prove how uncool I really am, here is an instant replay of a conversation I had after the first free community concert of The Wailers.

Me: “Hey, how are you? Did you go to the concert?”

Cool guy: “Yeah, it was a thumper.”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

Cool guy: “I recorded it. It was one hour 58 minutes and 15 seconds.”

Me: “Oh. I left early.”

Cool guy: “Oh.”

Me: “I didn’t even think I liked reggae, but I liked this band. Especially the back-up singers in their green skirts. Boy, they could dance!”

Cool guy: “Yeah, Bob Marley had a great band.”

Me: “Huh?”

Cool guy: “Yeah, remember Bob Marley and The Wailers?”

Me: “Really? No way, oh no wonder. Thanks for telling me.”

I don’t own a Blackberry, blog or listen to Beyonce. I also do not have a My Space page or send instant messages. I’m not going to camp out overnight for an iPhone. Even though I’m frequently lost, I have not installed a GPS system in my car.

I’m not cool.

And I’m cool with it.