Well, I traded in my "Cool Card" today. That's right. I went to the Dept. of Public Safety today (DMV in other states) and got my Texas drivers license.
Let's bow our heads for a moment of silence.
No longer do I have evidence of living in California. No longer can I get "Southern California discounts" to SeaWorld and Disneyland. No longer do I have an actor for a governor. In short, I am no longer cool.
You have to admit, being a Californian makes you a certain amount of cool. I was so glad when I first moved to California that I was living in the middle of nowhere. How cool do you have to be to live in Blythe? But when we moved out closer to LA, I was a little trepidatious. I mean, I just wasn't cool--even if I did have a toe ring. Would people spot how uncool I was? Eleven years after first entering the state, I now chuckled in empathy as a speaker at a conference I went to said that she was always nervous when she flew into California. She was afraid she just wasn't cool enough and that she'd trigger the state's cool alarm when she flew in. I know just what she means.
Well, I may no longer be cool, but I'll always be glad to have the memory of being cool!
