I was walking The Stafford last evening when I came across a group of Youths. For some reason, their idea of How To Spend A Sunday Night was to gather at the local high school tennis courts in sub-zero temperatures, glued to a single glowing i-phone screen as the digits of one of the party flew across the screen in what must have been some sort of triple-jointed arrangement.
My inclination was to keep walking but The Stafford, being a high tech kind of dog, wanted to find out more. Now, the Stafford isn’t all that socially adept so I discouraged this lest he decide to cock an inappropriate leg near anyone’s designer ugg boots. I am also somewhat intimidated by groups of people, Youths or otherwise, and wanted to continue on until my preferred personal space zone of 250m around could be reattained. One of the Youths saw The Stafford and I and approached me at a scamper. I tensed with suspicion.
Grasping the i-phone in her hand, she held it out to show me what was, she claimed, The Coolest Thing Ever. Justin Bieber? Twilight? A cunning ruse to lure me in and then try to nick my own i-phone?
None of the above. It was a photograph of her own dog – a new puppy which she was showing off with as much delight as any proud mum could have.
My lesson for the day was, therefore, sometimes The Coolest Thing Ever really is the coolest thing ever regardless of whether you are Gen X, Y or none of the above.
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