There is a supermarket near us where Debbie often sends me to get last minute items — it’s a short drive from our house and is ideal when we need one green pepper or a dozen eggs. Things like that. And yes, it’s convenient. And yeah, it’s reasonably priced. But more importantly it’s where a kid named Ethan works.
Now, I’m using the word kid here because I have no idea of Ethan’s real age. He’s young — but every year a larger slice of the population look young to me — and he does have those weird double earrings that appear as if dime sized holes were drilled through his earlobes — but they’re not — and if I had to guess I’d say he was somewhere between 17 and the ripe old age of 20. Around there. Which by using the age barometer that we middle aged men carry; this puts him well within the kid range.
The grocery store in question is convenient and well stocked and the first time I met Ethan there he was loading yogurts in a dairy case. I walked right by him, to the next glass door. I had already looked in there but you never know, maybe I missed what I wanted so I looked again. Nope. And when I didn’t find it for the second time, I closed the door, turned and saw Ethan’s half smile.
“I look lost, huh?”
“Maybe,” Ethan smirked.
“I’m looking for the Bob Evans, Macaroni and Cheese. You know the ones that –.”
It was then that Ethan’s smirk became a wider smile. “I gotcha,” he nodded. As if in the history of franchise food shopping, Bob Evans Macaroni and Cheese was the greatest thing that anyone could be looking for. Ever. And only those like me — the rare, the connected, the exceptional — would even think to ask for it.
Ethan abandoned his pallet of yogurts and walked me over three aisles. He then opened a refrigerator case to reveal two shelves of Bob Evans food products. There. Just waiting for me.
I thanked Ethan and he smiled and went back to his yogurt.
After that, anytime I couldn’t find something I would seek Ethan out — I could have found it myself. Eventually. But even if I did, I would have missed out on that cool experience.
Because that’s what Ethan is. He is one of those rare individuals who are naturally cool. Not cocky. Not arrogant. Not proud, smug or conceited. But cool — because there is a big difference.
And cool is so much better than all of those other things. Cool is even better than just being confident and self-assured.
Because cool is — . Well, it’s cool.
Cool is the ability to be positive, but so much so that people feel confident around you. Cool is inviting. Cool is happy and content — it’s the attitude that no matter where you are, that’s the place to be.
Cool doesn’t hide anything but it celebrates everything. It can’t be bought, it can’t be faked and it can’t be forced. Because it’s not a destination it’s a side effect.
Which means, that is we try to get to cool — we never will. Ever. And by trying we’ll get lost or think we’re there — which is so much worse than not being cool at all.
Cool has nothing to do with what you wear, what you drive, how much money you make, who you know, or where you’ve been. Cool doesn’t care about any of that.
And cool isn’t perfect or flawless; cool makes mistakes and has errors and even regrets. But cool doesn’t hide those mistakes but celebrates them.
If you think your cool, you’re not. If you don’t care if you’re cool, you might be — but most likely you’re still not.
But whether or not we have the ability to be cool, we all have the ability to do things that are cool — which is almost as good.
Because every time we make someone feel important, powerful or essential — that’s cool.
Every time we ignore what is normal, standard or average and embrace what simply feels right — that’s cool.
Every time we turn the attention from us to someone else in a public way — that’s cool.
Every time we enjoy something from the background, every act that is kind, every chance we have to step forward even though we’re scared to death, for every aspect of beauty that we notice that we’ve never seen before …
That’s very, very cool.
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