Swing doors - the death of coolth

Coolth, though it means different things to different people, is the shell we hide our imperfections behind.

I've got tons of coolth, so I won't blame you if you think I'm nearly perfect. I mean, I wear black a lot, I listen to 'good' music (you don't like it? That's because you need more coolth, of course) and I don't allow my outward calm to be ruffled easily.

People think I'm 'in control', but that's because they haven't got under the shell. Underneath it, there are all sorts of messy things going on, and its all very un-cool indeed and quite often out of control.

I'm starting to realize though, that its the same for everyone. We're muddling along through life trying to look like we actually know what's going on, and hoping no-one will realize that we don't.

A simple example: Pushing a door that's meant to be pulled. Doesn't it make you feel like an utter twit? There's this awful 'I hope no-one noticed' moment, and you're convinced that you're the only one who doesn't know how to open a door correctly the first time.

Well, you're wrong. I sat at a pavement cafe once and watched a certain door, and plenty of people did the push-pull thing. Not one of them failed to have an 'I'm a twit' moment. If you watch closely you can see the moment of tensing, the furtive glance 'No-one's watching, are they?'.

The human condition. I'm sure that push-pull doors are part of it in a small but significant way. They help us to remember that coolth is only skin deep. Should we thank them?

**It was difficult to find a picture in my files that demonstrates coolth, but perhaps this one will do? L, my friend, you are the coolest. Pity you don't read my blog.