meaning, "sundry items" or "filler," or "diverse things" but not exactly.

 Portrait of James Joyce as a Young Man.

 

Years ago I used to wear these tortoise-shell framed glasses, not dissimilar to the ones James Joyce or the poet Cavafy wore.  [I wore bow-ties too].  A friend said they made me look [the glasses] "extremely hip."

 

"Thank you," I said.

"Except you're not," he added.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're nowhere near that hip," he explained, and proceeded to point out ways in which I failed to be as "with it" or trendy or "au courant" as the glasses might suggest.  He had specific examples in fact, because he had seen me in action and could prove fairly specifically how Not "sophisticated," "worldly," "experienced" -- not even, in his analysis, especially "jaded" or "eccentric" I was.  Certainly nowhere near "decadent."

I blushed and, after a feeble attempt at defense, admitted that from his perspective he was probably right.

 

"Of course I'm right," he said.  "And it's not just my perspective," he added, contributing to my sense of paranoia (people were discussing this behind my back).  "So stop pretending you are." 

 

What I pretended was not to take his advice.  Not immediately.  I continued wearing those frames for a while, as if to say there was room for disagreement, nothing is always the way it seems.  But eventually I caved and got a new prescription and, yes, a new pair of glasses.

What I'm trying to say here is, I am not very hip.  I may like to act as if I've been around the block, that I wasn't born yesterday, that I've seen it all, but it's just a facade. 

Now that may sound kind of lame or, as one reviewer described "Darjeeling Limited" which I just saw, "unbearably precious."  I'm not so sure about that.  I mean, I enjoyed this Wes Anderson film.  And I think I understood it (what's not to understand?).  I don't think Wes is trying to be obscure about his crazy family, which seems to be his subject.  And he doesn't seem really angry about them either, which is nice.  He's just being hip about it all, I suppose, but my family was never that disturbed or dysfunctional so I can't say. 

Anyway here's my point: it's nothing personal but some of your comments? I don't understand them.  There is much I don't understand, so some of what you have to say goes over my head, or I don't see the connection, or I get confused, or shy.  All the Spam lately really confuses me.  Sorry.

To tell the truth, I barely understand what I'm trying to say myself.  You can blame it on that.  Or on my being stuck back in 1904.  Talk about being behind the times.  "Blame it," as somebody used to say, "on Midnight."  

Whatever that means.   And thank you, Gentle Readers, for trying to understand.  I'm trying too.