Rantings of a New Yorker

Last Friday, I took the day off and went into the city with my husband for some much needed “bunking off work” time. We spent the day walking around the American Museum of Natural History and seeing a couple of other sites. However, the most important thing I took away from New York City was that I just don’t care about what’s popular anymore.

On the way back to the train station, we were given a free copy of the NY Post. Yes, free is still too much to pay for this paper. Inside the Post, there was an article about the “hip hop mogul” Damon Dash and the sexual assault/rape case brought against him. Apparently, this has been a case that has been going on since 2003, when the woman filed against him. The alleged crime happened in Brazil and this particular news story was about how Damon Dash had just lost his appeal to have the case heard in Brazil. Fair enough, except, who the hell is Damon Dash? If the story hadn’t reported that he was some sort of hip hop guy, I would never have known who he is, or was. I don’t even know if he’s a has been or a never-will-be.

At one point in time, I had thought that I just grown old and turned into my parents and grandparents. Sure, everyone knows the Paris Hiltons of the world but, as you get older, you tend to not know the latest movie and rock stars and no longer care about fashion. I felt like I had fallen into that category at the tender age of 36 until I started to think about what really occurred.

When I was a teenager in the 1980s, I didn’t listen to the pop music of the day, nor did I wear the latest fashions. I wore then, and still do, a t-shirt and pair of jeans (blue or black). The only time I was in fashion was when Bruce Springsteen released Born In The USA. Suddenly, people started to like me and pay attention to me. But, as with everything else in life, fashions fade and so did interest in me.

While most of my friends were drooling over Duran Duran and Morrissey, I spent my days listening to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Rush, and Bad Company. These guys were big ten years before, yet I enjoyed their music much more. I also listened to classical music and had a particular affinity to Tchaikovsky.

I did know who all the stars were, even if I didn’t like them. I went to dozens of movies every month. As I entered college, I found it much the same as high school. Being a New Yorker and going to college in Nebraska has some advantages. Everyone thinks your exotic and wants to hear you speak with your “funny” accent. You also had the big advantage of the $1.50 theater. Now, if I planned my time right, I could see a dozen movies a week. I still knew what was hot, which famous person was sleeping with which other famous person and what was going on in the world. Or so I thought.

By the time I graduated from college, I realized that most of this was unimportant. Everything that I “needed” to know to keep up with my friends was superfluous to the things that really mattered. I’d rather enjoy hanging out at home and having good conversation, the type I imagined Socrates might have had with his students. I also had the travel bug. I’ve had it my whole life. I don’t just like to read about things like the Mona Lisa, Rosetta Stone, or the Roman Forum. I want to see and feel and touch them. I want to be able to look at it and get the deep kind of appreciation for things that a photo in book just can’t give you.

My nephew calls me a geek and a dork all the time for this. I’m a geek because I build my own computers and try to keep up on technology. I like to learn new programs and interact with others who think likewise. I’m a dork because I watch the news. I read the news on at least ten different sites per day. I like to know all the different perspectives on things so I can make the most informed decision possible on things. I’m also a dork because I like to read books. I’m not so much a fan of novels, though when I do read one, they tend to lean towards the Neil Gaiman and Neil Stephenson types of books. Most of the books that I read are historical, the classics, current events, or political science. For this, I’m labeled out of touch with what really matters.

The fact is, I’d rather know about things like Darfur, the constant problems in the Middle East and how George Bush is screwing up the views others have of America. I don’t like that, when I go on vacation, I feel like I need to defend America. Traveling to a foreign country should be an indication that I want to learn new things and am open to what the world has to offer.

I prefer seeing new countries and meeting new people, not only to enrich my own life but, so that when I am an old woman and can no longer get around, I can have great memories of my younger days. When I look back on life, I want to be able to remember subtle differences in windmills and which type was used for what purpose. I want to remember every detail of each light bulb that hung on the Eiffel Tower in 1999 and laugh at the horrible faces my husband made as I made him drink Bombay Sapphire Gin later that same night.

One of the best days of my life was sitting outside in the cool evening air in Dar Es Salaam, speaking with Moses for two hours. We could have spoken longer, as there was so much more to discuss but he had to help his girlfriend out. This was far more memorable than any of the days I spent at the movie theater or the days being shocked that Hollywood couples break up or cheat on one other.

The problem isn’t that I’ve gotten older. It’s that I’ve gotten wiser. I was never very much into all the popular things to begin with but I see that, as a teenager, you are far more worried about how you look, how you sound and how you act. You don’t want to be labeled and shunned because you care about things your fellow classmates do not. As you get older, you start to realize, “do I really want these sorts of people to be my friends for life or do I want a richer, more fulfilling life.”

So, you see, the problem isn’t that I don’t know who Damon Dash is, the problem is that I just don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me in the long run that some hip hop guy is in trouble with the law. Until Friday, I had never heard of him, and that was okay with me. I don’t need to be a player to get by in life. I don’t need to keep up with you or your friends because, quit frankly, it just doesn’t matter.