Abby and I were walking down the street in Nyack yesterday after a quick lunch in a new middle-eastern restaurant. (In a bit of a parallel to the actual universe, it's a Islamic-owned establishment across the street from a Jewish-owned middle-eastern restaurant. At some point we expect the double yellow lines on Broadway to be replaced with barbed wire and tanks...)
In any case, as we were strolling, two black teens (yes, this racial reference IS important to the story) wearing a level of cool looking clothes that I'm unable to get away with (low slung jeans, cool looking hoodies, new sneakers, etc.) stopped dead in their tracks looking at me.
"Oh man!" said the younger of the two "where did you get that?" At first I had utterly no idea what he was talking about. Get what? I looked down and realized I was wearing an Apple logo'd zip up track-style sweatshirt.
"I got it at the Apple store at the company's headquarters in California." I said.
"I'm totally crushing on that!" (yes, that's what he said) "I've got Apple everything." His friend chimed in at this point to confirm that he did in fact have a ton of Apple-branded clothes. (Although he did it in a bit of a Forrest Gump sort of way—"Apple hats, Apple shirts, Apple drawers...")
I thanked him for his comments, and got into my car, which is when the oddness of the situation hit me.
Flash back to my formative years, sitting alone in my room at my mom's house with my Apple ][+, then Apple //e, then Apple IIGS, poring over manuals, learning how to do graphics on a system with two-bit color, and admiring my "Beagle Brothers" peek-and-poke chart.
Years later I found myself working at the Apple retail store, having been hired the day that the iPod was announced, and spent my days surrounded by overweight white folks—the early days of the Mac retail experience were only occasionally punctuated by the visits of teens, usually males, always white. In fact it was usually a challenge to figure if the customers or the iBooks were whiter.
Wearing an Apple-branded anything was never really a sign of a hip cultural reference so much as a clear indication that my life has been spent among the ranks of the geeks.
Now I'm picked out by clearly trendy non-white teens who identify with the brand icon, and must, to some degree associate with the products the brand represents. (After all, the Nike swish isn't popular just because it's a clever icon.) This is truly odd.
The only thing I can come up with here is that I've been a trend setter all along, I'm just vastly ahead of the curve, and that the world is just catching up to me as a teenager.
And that can only mean that any day now watching scrambled-because-you-haven't-paid-for-it Cinemax on a weekend evening trying to see a bit of nudity will become a cultural phenomena and I'll be further vindicated.
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