Line Up

8 Apr

I got an email the other day with a link to a few articles about the iPad. I’m a Mac fan (most days), and I enjoyed both of them: Jill Donenfeld: The Joy of Cooking With Your iPad and Craig Kanalley: iPad Review: It Has Only One Flaw.  Each one extols the virtues of the new device; how it’s revolutionary and will change the way we do lots of things (even cook).  Duh.  This thing is going to be awesome. And I can’t wait to get mine.  But would I stand in line for it?

Not a chance.

And then I started to wonder.  What would I stand in line for these days?

All of the obvious, tedious answers came bubbling to the top: flu shots, the interminable 6-8 hour camp-out sessions in the ER, even airport security and Disney made an appearance.  But they don’t count.  What would I wait for, by choice, so jazzed up that I would stand in line like a kid at a concert?

First of all, concerts are out.  I can’t think of a single band or artist that I would go through the trouble for.  Back in the day I would’ve cut off an arm for the chance to see Bon Jovi or U2, especially if it meant getting some actual face time with Jon or Bono.  (Little known fact:  My left thumb wasn’t messed up in an accident as a little kid, but because it was the price required to jump on stage during the Slippery When Wet tour, circa 1986).  But those days are over, and strangely, I’m cool with it.

Okay, so everyone ages, grows up, matures.  So what about wine or good food?  I’m a huge foodie, but I’m not waiting over 20 minutes for a table, even at Biba or Mesa Grill.  There are just too many options.  And I’m too impatient.

But there must be something I care enough about to wait in line like a crazed schoolgirl, right?

What about the next Twilight movie?  Nope.  I’m a fan (Team Edward!), but I’ll wait for the DVD.  Frankly the thought of being surrounded by that many teenage girls screeching and squealing is enough to keep me away.

Am I so irrevocably lame and old that nothing matters anymore?

Well, I wouldn’t wait in line for a sale on something, like clothing, and I take that as a good sign.

A few months ago I stood in line for the chance to talk to a literary agent.  The results were not exactly awesome (somehow I made her think that I expected her to do my laundry), but that’s another story.

I know!  I would eagerly wait in line for something that would make my dogs either sleep through the night or stop barking forever.

Lame.

Okay, I might wait in line (if it wasn’t too long) for a great author, like Barbara Kingsolver or John Irving or George R. R. Martin.  I guess, but what’s the point? So I can say I saw them for 3 seconds or that they wrote in my book? It’s stupid.

I’m indifferent.

Or maybe…I’m just different; more discerning and harder to impress.  Maybe it’s a good thing that it takes more than a tight pair of leather pants and a luscious head of hair to get me all worked up. Not that there’s anything wrong with either of those things.

And to be honest, I might still stand for hours in the pouring rain for Bono.  He is, without question, one of my all time favorite things in life.  Truly, classically awesome.  But for the most part, I’ll let the squealing little girls stand in line.  I’m quite comfortable apart from the crowd, waiting to see how it all shakes out.


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