Investigating the mysterious subspecies known as “emo”
I like to frequent coffee places. The nice relaxing smell of roasted coffee, the ambient noise of life all around and the fear of that life being sucked into a deep realm of darkness. That’s right! More often than not, while I’m sipping a cup of mocha with droopy pictures of plants and/or animals in my whip, I look around and realize that there is nothing but sad, sad “emo” (meaning emotional. i.e. “I’m such an emo wreck right now.”) kids filling the shop.
Where did they come from? It seems everywhere I go now there is a gaggle of “emo” kids turning once respectable areas – River Park Square, that one place on Monroe, etc. – into soul devouring voids. I can feel it too. I will seriously walk out of the downtown Red Robin, after eating their Monster Burger, and by the time I get across the street into the all-encompassing darkness, I immediately feel the void that was once in my body fill with something more horrible than I could ever imagine. My only “emo” is regret. A most depressing and suicidal regret.
Apparently, these kids are WAY into music. But only music that is full of “emo” lyrics. So, being the professional journalist that I am, I went and did some research on “emo” music. Apparently it has many genres, and is actually pretty cool. The thing I don’t get though is the fact that the members in “emo” bands don’t really dress nor look like the “emo” kids. Why? I decided to find out by asking an actual “emo” kid. However, by the time I was within speaking distance all I wanted to do was put my hair to one side, wear pants 15 sizes smaller than the norm and cry. It was unreal!
No, it was “emo.” Afterward I went home and wrote an epic poem on how my love of hate makes me want to live as though I was dead.
Back to the point though, these kids are ruining my coffee experience. All I want to do is drink my coffee in naive happiness. So, I’ve come up with a plan. We need to all become “emo.”
“But, why would I want to do that?” you may ask. Simple, since all these kids are teenagers, if everyone were to become “emo,” even their PARENTS, they would have to come up with some way to be completely opposite of us. Perhaps they would become, “Impo,” for impassive. Or “emoless” for emotionless. It would be great; it would be like the 80’s all over again. (Oh, you know what I mean.)
So the next time you see a herd of “emo” kids, instead of looking at them with disgusted and/or disapproving looks, show them only half your face along with a tear of approval. Until then, be sad. Be really, unbelievably sad. Do it for the kids.
Life in the ‘Kan is a monthly column written by the first person involved with The SiDEKiCK to possess a journalism degree. In the first issue of every month, Nick will be pontificating about whatever’s on his mind as far as life in the Inland Northwest is concerned.
Accessories you will need to be sufficiently emotional after leaving the house:
- Dog collar
- Ridiculously undersized pants made out of a material you can’t pronounce
- Aggressive parting of the hair, preferrably starting at or below the ear
- Sailor shirt or other “ironic” uniform that makes you look like a suicidal member of The Village People