Livejournal prompt: Cheugy
Do you remember being young? I do. Remember being excited to be able to ride your two-wheeler bike by yourself? How about getting your Drivers’ License? More independence, right?
How about chafing at the teachers who scolded you for talking in class? The vice-principals who shook their heads and pulled out a measuring tape to make sure your skirt was long enough or, for the boys, your hair was short enough? So much overbearing adult control.
Do you remember when you graduated from high school and suddenly you could be out at ten a.m. on a Tuesday morning and NOT be sitting in school?! The Freedom! The exhilaration!
The freedom from adult control was heady stuff. When I was young, the mantra was “Don’t trust anyone over thirty.” Indeed, we youth fully intended to take over the world and to throw out the ancient Graybeards’ rules and stodgy mindsets. First, there would be no more war, because war was stupid. We would all hold hands and make sure everyone had plenty of organic food to eat and Peace would rule. We KNEW that old farts just didn’t get it. Or us.
It was pretty clear that older folks looked down their wrinkled noses at us teens. We all heard it. From the 1700s we got:
“Whither are the manly vigour and athletic appearance of our forefathers flown? Can these be their legitimate heirs? Surely, no; a race of effeminate, self-admiring, emaciated fribbles can never have descended in a direct line from the heroes of Potiers and Agincourt…”
Or from a speech to the House of Commons in 1843:
“…a fearful multitude of untutored savages… [boys] with dogs at their heels and other evidence of dissolute habits…[girls who] drive coal-carts, ride astride upon horses, drink, swear, fight, smoke, whistle, and care for nobody…the morals of children are tenfold worse than formerly.”
So we were as skeptical of the old fogies as they were skeptical of us “wet behind the ears” greenhorns. These days that’s called ageism.
But we made our independent ways through the world; we made our marks. We found our way. And we put in our time. They say the young are busy trying to fit in. By the time you’re old, you really don’t give a damn. You do whatever you damn well please. That’s what’s behind the Red Hat organization. They are known by their purple dresses and red hats. Doesn’t match? That’s the point! Over the age of fifty, their feeling is, do whatever floats your boat!
https://cdn.sanity.io/images/nzn8863g/production/2da95584e46e41d8e63a5e7f9a2dfef4ba995af7-1280x199.jpg
I will admit to something I have tried pretty hard to keep under wraps on this site for years. I, myself, am now an old fart. And, yes, I pretty much do what I want.
I have just discovered the concept of Cheugy. It’s very similar to the arrogance my generation had in our twenties. But dare I say it, it’s even more self-centered than those of us who wanted to bring Peace to the world.
Cheugy is basically a disdain by twenty-somethings for anything and everything old people like to do. It doesn’t matter if you’re an eighty-year-old Boomer who likes to eat dinner at cheap restaurants before six p.m. or a millennial who loves their comfy Ugg sheepskin boots. Neither of those things is considered trendy so I guess we all better end our lives right now.
Know what else is considered passe? (OMG, the list is so long I will exceed my word quota!). Things your house may have come with that are now out of date: shag carpets, wood panelling, and extensive Tuscan kitchens. Don’t forget blue bathtubs with spa jets. (Excuse me for not investing hundreds of thousands of dollars to remodel just to stay trendy.)
Style is heavily hit by these restrictive standards. Whatever you do, don’t wear a jeans jacket or leggings. Don’t put your hair in a side part or dye it blond. Graphic tees, a standby of the techie community, is now a complete no-no. Even Herbal Essence shampoo, for Cripe’s sake. Don’t eat lasagne or drink a lot of tea. Don’t you dare go on a cruise or, heaven forbid, visit Disneyland. Don’t write thank you notes or send a holiday letter. Wouldn’t want to connect with other people too much.
Sure, I get it. Styles change. I suppose there are things that are stylish now that have replaced our beloved standbys.
But it gets worse. Apparently, it is cheugy to wear sunscreen. Tell that to my dermatologist who has saved lives by removing skin cancers from my body and many others. I can show you my melanoma scars in case you need a visual aid.
Now I see voting is considered cheugy. OK, just roll over and play dead when the Supreme Court removes your basic rights and an unhinged demagogue with mental illness is voted into office. (For what it’s worth, the people who elected him are cheugy-on-steroids. Don’t you want to argue with that? Or wouldn’t it be cool?)
Perhaps some of the more mundane cheugy tendencies help put this into perspective. It’s supposedly cheugy to take pictures of scenery and friends while on vacation. OK, I hope you’re happy with hundreds of selfies. I guess there’s some value when you’re sixty for checking out how hot you were when you were eighteen.
I see that napping, as well as waking up super early, are both cheugy. You know, after putting in decades of raising kids and working a job, I’m going to nap if I need to. And sorry if my body has made its own decision to wake up way earlier than I would like.
Interestingly, nowhere did I see of list of attributes which are not cheugy. I guess the point is excessive negativity.
My youth’s mantra was rebel, do your own thing. I think it’s time for that now that I deserve my reward for living and working a long life. I’m going to pour myself a cup of decaf tea, eat a big plate of lasagne, and put on that special new graphic Tee I had custom printed.
CHEUGY AND PROUD OF IT
Deal with it!
*****
4th Century B.C.E. Aristotle
“[Young people] are high-minded because they have not yet been humbled by life, nor have they experienced the force of circumstances.
…
They think they know everything, and are always quite sure about it.”
How about chafing at the teachers who scolded you for talking in class? The vice-principals who shook their heads and pulled out a measuring tape to make sure your skirt was long enough or, for the boys, your hair was short enough? So much overbearing adult control.
Do you remember when you graduated from high school and suddenly you could be out at ten a.m. on a Tuesday morning and NOT be sitting in school?! The Freedom! The exhilaration!
The freedom from adult control was heady stuff. When I was young, the mantra was “Don’t trust anyone over thirty.” Indeed, we youth fully intended to take over the world and to throw out the ancient Graybeards’ rules and stodgy mindsets. First, there would be no more war, because war was stupid. We would all hold hands and make sure everyone had plenty of organic food to eat and Peace would rule. We KNEW that old farts just didn’t get it. Or us.
It was pretty clear that older folks looked down their wrinkled noses at us teens. We all heard it. From the 1700s we got:
“Whither are the manly vigour and athletic appearance of our forefathers flown? Can these be their legitimate heirs? Surely, no; a race of effeminate, self-admiring, emaciated fribbles can never have descended in a direct line from the heroes of Potiers and Agincourt…”
Or from a speech to the House of Commons in 1843:
“…a fearful multitude of untutored savages… [boys] with dogs at their heels and other evidence of dissolute habits…[girls who] drive coal-carts, ride astride upon horses, drink, swear, fight, smoke, whistle, and care for nobody…the morals of children are tenfold worse than formerly.”
So we were as skeptical of the old fogies as they were skeptical of us “wet behind the ears” greenhorns. These days that’s called ageism.
But we made our independent ways through the world; we made our marks. We found our way. And we put in our time. They say the young are busy trying to fit in. By the time you’re old, you really don’t give a damn. You do whatever you damn well please. That’s what’s behind the Red Hat organization. They are known by their purple dresses and red hats. Doesn’t match? That’s the point! Over the age of fifty, their feeling is, do whatever floats your boat!
https://cdn.sanity.io/images/nzn8863g/production/2da95584e46e41d8e63a5e7f9a2dfef4ba995af7-1280x199.jpg
I will admit to something I have tried pretty hard to keep under wraps on this site for years. I, myself, am now an old fart. And, yes, I pretty much do what I want.
I have just discovered the concept of Cheugy. It’s very similar to the arrogance my generation had in our twenties. But dare I say it, it’s even more self-centered than those of us who wanted to bring Peace to the world.
Cheugy is basically a disdain by twenty-somethings for anything and everything old people like to do. It doesn’t matter if you’re an eighty-year-old Boomer who likes to eat dinner at cheap restaurants before six p.m. or a millennial who loves their comfy Ugg sheepskin boots. Neither of those things is considered trendy so I guess we all better end our lives right now.
Know what else is considered passe? (OMG, the list is so long I will exceed my word quota!). Things your house may have come with that are now out of date: shag carpets, wood panelling, and extensive Tuscan kitchens. Don’t forget blue bathtubs with spa jets. (Excuse me for not investing hundreds of thousands of dollars to remodel just to stay trendy.)
Style is heavily hit by these restrictive standards. Whatever you do, don’t wear a jeans jacket or leggings. Don’t put your hair in a side part or dye it blond. Graphic tees, a standby of the techie community, is now a complete no-no. Even Herbal Essence shampoo, for Cripe’s sake. Don’t eat lasagne or drink a lot of tea. Don’t you dare go on a cruise or, heaven forbid, visit Disneyland. Don’t write thank you notes or send a holiday letter. Wouldn’t want to connect with other people too much.
Sure, I get it. Styles change. I suppose there are things that are stylish now that have replaced our beloved standbys.
But it gets worse. Apparently, it is cheugy to wear sunscreen. Tell that to my dermatologist who has saved lives by removing skin cancers from my body and many others. I can show you my melanoma scars in case you need a visual aid.
Now I see voting is considered cheugy. OK, just roll over and play dead when the Supreme Court removes your basic rights and an unhinged demagogue with mental illness is voted into office. (For what it’s worth, the people who elected him are cheugy-on-steroids. Don’t you want to argue with that? Or wouldn’t it be cool?)
Perhaps some of the more mundane cheugy tendencies help put this into perspective. It’s supposedly cheugy to take pictures of scenery and friends while on vacation. OK, I hope you’re happy with hundreds of selfies. I guess there’s some value when you’re sixty for checking out how hot you were when you were eighteen.
I see that napping, as well as waking up super early, are both cheugy. You know, after putting in decades of raising kids and working a job, I’m going to nap if I need to. And sorry if my body has made its own decision to wake up way earlier than I would like.
Interestingly, nowhere did I see of list of attributes which are not cheugy. I guess the point is excessive negativity.
My youth’s mantra was rebel, do your own thing. I think it’s time for that now that I deserve my reward for living and working a long life. I’m going to pour myself a cup of decaf tea, eat a big plate of lasagne, and put on that special new graphic Tee I had custom printed.
CHEUGY AND PROUD OF IT
Deal with it!
*****
4th Century B.C.E. Aristotle
“[Young people] are high-minded because they have not yet been humbled by life, nor have they experienced the force of circumstances.
…
They think they know everything, and are always quite sure about it.”