I Used to Be Cool

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Was driving in Ankeny, Iowa when I got in line at a red light behind a F-150 Pickup truck. The bumper sticker on the driver’s side rear:

“I Used to Be Cool.”

I laughed.

“So did I,” I thought.

My beautiful wife wasn’t with me, but I could almost hear her voice saying:

“You were never cool.”

And I probably wasn’t.

We all like to think we were the greatest back in the day.

When I’m recalling sports that I played with my buddies I always pretend that I was much more of a strong presence than I actually was. A specific game might enter the conversation and I’ll say:

“I think I had 20 points and 18 rebounds in that one.”

They’ll laugh.

Or worse...

...remind me that I spent that particular game parked on the bench.

Yet, that’s the thing about looking back. We tell ourselves a lot of stories, and shame on you if you aren’t cool in all of them.

“The girls loved me,” I’ll often say to Kathy.

“No they didn’t.”

I spent a lot of years tellin my kids that I played in the NBA under the name of Jerry West.

How cool is that?

They believed me for a little while.

“I was a medic in Nam,” is another one of my little gems in an attempt to rewrite history.

“You were six!” Sam finally figured out.

So, I might get that bumper sticker.

I DID used to be cool.

I’m not anymore.

“I was an elite athlete,” I mentioned to my boy’s friend, Ben, right after I served him a little food.

“I can definitely see that,” he said.

Smart kid.

He knows I control the food now...

...and what’s cooler than that?

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