The boy next door is into better things

I think when I moved to Minneapolis I had this false illusion that the majority of my peers had bought into the place (as I had) as a mecca for hipsters and a place where irony was still alive and kicking.

But my illusion is dissolving as I get little kicks in the head to inform me that I'm in the Midwest after all. The other day K received a goody bag while attending a friend's birthday party. When he pulled out the star-shaped glasses in addition to the chocolate bars and plastic bars, I blurted out to the friend's mom: "Wow- good score on the Bootsy glasses." Her quizzical look in response prompted me to explain how Bootsy is. But the effect was lost. It's like having to explain a joke.

Perhaps I'm aiming too high. When I told friend Dave, he said that I should have used Elton John for my analogy. I guess it might serve to communicate my message so that the listener might comprehend it, but it's not as accurate or fun to compare anything to Sir John. Besides, it doesn't bolster my hipster credentials (which must be promoted at every possible occasion).

Update: I listened to two mothers today as they left the pre-school after dropping off the kids. One said: "I don't know much about that." The other said. "I'll do some research and find out what it's about. It's called "inner space" or something." I know now not to assume that she's talking about the legendary cinema outside Cologne where Can recorded some of their uber-tribal-psyche rock masterpieces.