In other words, ‘I’m not cool’

I’m not phat, I don’t grub and I’ve never been a playa. I’m not
super-cool, I don’t live in a crib and I’m certainly not wack. I’m
not sick
– unless I’m sick – and I don’t call everyone
”
bro.
”
In other words, I’m not cool.
I’m not phat, I don’t grub and I’ve never been a playa. I’m not super-cool, I don’t live in a crib and I’m certainly not wack. I’m not sick – unless I’m sick – and I don’t call everyone “bro.”

In other words, I’m not cool.

I graduated from high school five years ago and college one year ago, and I already feel removed from the underworld of hip lingo. In fact, I don’t even think it’s cool to say “hip” anymore.

I heard, from an unnamed source, two of the currently preferred expressions are “super-cool” and “tight,” neither of which I consider myself.

I’ve always tried to keep up with this constant evolution of slang – if for no other reason, amusement. And now, at 23, I’ll be lost forever, like a peer-pressured teenager who grudgingly abandons his favorite toys and cartoons, from fear of being picked last in kickball.

In talking this weekend to people who grew up during the past 20 years, I was reminded of something: The ridiculousness of juvenile dialect hasn’t changed. It’s just the words that come and go.

For instance, my 27-year-old brother Kory read me several excerpts from his autographed grade school yearbook. It read: “Have a fresh summer” and “You’re a fresh dude.” By the way, he’s more of a fresh dude than I’ll ever be.

For awhile in the late 1980s, kids weren’t even cool. They were cold. And most people weren’t yet dudes, they were dogs. And it wasn’t cold or rad to be wapped, whatever it means to be wapped.

I don’t remember much about the days of fresh, rad, dog or wapped. When I reached my dawning ages of slang aptitude – middle school – I avoided using goofy lingo because the words didn’t feel natural. Though being slightly chubby at the time, I was glad when being phat became cool.

I remember one of my first moments of slang enlightenment in middle school on the basketball court at recess. A boy named Marcus Weddle put up a three-pointer and immediately yelled, “Butter!”

I was amused, while slightly confused, but I assumed the word’s meaning. Still, my purposefully dorky self asked other guys on the court, “What’s butter, my dudes?” And one of them responded with the standard, “Shut up Kollin, you’s a fool.” By the way, “butter” means the shot’s going in.

Suddenly, it was a good thing to be da bomb. And while boys who had girlfriends were mac-daddies, girls who rejected them were playa-haters. All the pretty girls, they were all that. And in those days, nobody stole anything. They ganked.

I did my best through those years to mock the use of spreading slang by testing my own laughable phrases. For instance, I tried to convince the guys that “You’re cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” was the newest slang for insulting someone’s intelligence. But it’s necessary, I told them, to use the voice of Sonny the cuckoo bird.

Now I feel more mature, sometimes even like a grown-up, so today, I’ve decided to offer suggestions for future generations.

I’ve heard kids are trying to reestablish the word rad. I’m against this. Kids, if you bring back old words, don’t be lazy. A little research will turn up much snappier words. For instance, my dad called us boys dingle-berries for being careless. And when something is stylish, he said it’s jazzy.

I’ve got more. If a guy is a ladies man, he should be called a swank-master. When boys are approaching girls or asking them to dances, they should just speak gibberish and avoid the risk of embarrassing themselves. Life would be so much easier, and there’d be swank-masters galore on campus.

Galore! That’s a cool word. Use that.

Kollin Kosmicki is a Free Lance staff writer. His column appears every other week.