Just so we’re clear. While being in the Dad Hole sometimes means missing out on some trends and cultural phenomena, it doesn’t mean wholesale ignorance to the world outside of work, family, and parenting.
That said, I’ve been paying attention to a few things lately that I just can’t bring myself to get down with. Maybe it’s because I’m old and don’t get it. Maybe it’s because I’m not cool and ain’t with it. Or maybe it’s because it’s just dumb and I can’t get on that level anymore.
No matter how you slice it, there’s just some things that I’ll probably just never be able to get down with…
Let me start my thesis here by saying that I truly believe that we are what entertains us. Television is, for the most part, a mirror onto a society in the moment so how the hell am I supposed to explain to my kid that these vapid yammering drivelboxes of inconsequence sitting around sipping mimosas are what pass for reality these days? How am I supposed to explain to her that backbiting and hair-pulling aren’t reasonable methods of conflict resolution? Seriously, this modern incarnation of “reality” television must be stopped. I grew up wanting to go to Hillman, my kid’s gonna grow up wanting to marry a baller.
But lemme get some more of that: Flip or Flop. Bruh, Tarek and Christina is #relationshipgoals.
Because it’s trash. Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with rapping about selling dope if you’re actually good at rapping. These guys, Lil Big Shorty Slim Thug Killa Gangsta Soulja Wap or whomever make a terrible form of art that’s derivative and inauthentic. Trap music and its purveyors make me want to cancel Black History Month. Malcolm, Martin and Tupac didn’t die for this.
But lemme get some more of that: Pusha T. I sell more imaginary dope between the time I drop my daughter off at school and I get to my desk than a li’l bit. I say “bye” to Miss Carla and Miss Elaine and then it’s time to move them bricks!
What does it do? Why do the messages go away? How am I supposed to use it to communicate with people? Why is DJ Khaled so good at it? I’m convinced that, as a married man of a certain age, Snapchat can only get me into trouble because I’m pretty sure it’s a vehicle for delivering clandestine pictures of butts. I’ll pass.
But lemme get some more of that: Instagram “models.” Bruh. Really?
There was a time when being drunk at 2:00 in the afternoon was the exclusive domain of winos and certain uncles. Now, it seems like it’s not a weekend on my IG feed unless someone’s talking about a day party. I can’t do day parties because I’m old. If I start drinking at 2:00 in the afternoon, I’ll be asleep at 6:00pm and awake again at 11:00pm unable to go back to sleep. Day parties are clearly for people who can afford to take random naps or are alright with erratic sleep patterns. I’m not one of those people. I party at night like I’m supposed to.
But lemme get some more of that: Movies in the park. It’s the one time you go out to a park, lay on a lawn and drink without being accosted for being a wino.
A couple of weeks ago, my homeboy invited me to watch the Berkshire Hathaway shareholder’s meeting webcast and I did that because if you give Warren Buffett money, he’ll tell you how to make money. What do I get if I give Jay Z money besides access to Jay Z albums I already own? Paying for Tidal is like having Netflix and Hulu Plus, then turning around paying $10 a month for a video service owned by Samuel L. Jackson because that’s the only way to watch a Sam Jack film. Do you really need to see Unbreakable or Long Kiss Goodnight that bad? Is Jackie Brown really worth it? C’mon Jay, you sold drugs in the past, but paying for Tidal is robbing folks today.
But lemme get some more of that: Old school R&B mix they play at Whole Foods. I was up in the Whole Fetty a coupla weeks ago and they played Troop “Spread My Wings” followed up with Bobby Brown “On Our Own” topped off by LeVert “Cassanova” and I’m convinced that that tag team of New Jack Swing subliminally coerced me into buying some $5 bean chips (they was nasty too).
I’m gonna go ahead and say it and let the tomatoes fly as they may; Air Jordans are ugly. I can’t imagine how or why anyone would spend hours waiting in line and then hundreds of American dollars on them. I like sneakers, but Jordans are the worst. They look like a progressive series of dares between Tinker Hatfield and the folks in procurement at Nike. Like someone walked in and said, “I bet I can stitch together some Pro Keds, one left Stacy Adams and a super absorbent maxi-pad and sell it for $300!” and the rest of the team didn’t believe him. I can’t with the J’s and I’m not sorry about it.
But lemme get some more of that: Golf apparel that doubles as casual apparel. Yeah, that’s me in the Callaway fitted. You can take my street cred now.