Cool Factor 10

The AlterNet has a list of the Top 10 or so YouTube vids viewed online. There's some amazing stuff in there, much of it performed by Generation Next. A lot of talent these kids have these days that would never have gotten noticed except for on corporatized TV shows like American Idol.

The first two I'd already seen or don't care about. The Quick Change video has got a cool factor of about 9, even if you figure out the trick. The Pachelbel guitar boy is awesome, the rocker girls make you want to be back in school; and the urban ninja dude makes the mall look exciting.

The rest are just so-so. The soccer thing would be amazing if I thought it was definitely not faked. And if you haven't yet seen the movie Napoleon Dynamite -- don't watch the last one if you don't want to ruin it.

Years ago I was sitting at an outdoors table at a restaurant in Buffalo and I saw this little black kid riding his bike across the street. He was going through a parking lot and suddenly turned the handlebars the wrong way and went right over the top. He landed in a roll and came up unscathed. I was amazed. He rode off, but about 10 minutes later here he comes and does the same thing. It was a stunt move that he had taught to himself.

That's what the ninja guy and the other YouTubers remind me of. Nobody paid them to just be cool; they just are. Which reminds me of a story my pops told me once. He and his brother (my cool uncle Dave, who died a few years ago of a heart attack), who was several years younger than my dad, Jim, were always fighting when they were kids. So, after one contentious battle, when Jim got the best of my uncle, Dave hatched a plan to get his brother back that must have taken weeks to implement. Every day when he got home from school, Dave put a ladder up against the house and practiced jumping off of it, going up a rung each day or so.

He got to the point where he could jump from about the height of, say, a second-story bedroom window. Then, the next day he picked a fight with Jim, claiming he was stronger or tougher or whatnot and when my pops challenged him, Dave bet him he couldn't jump out of the bedroom window. So Jim said, sure, you first, and Dave threw open the window, climbed out and jumped, hitting the ground just right to avoid injuring himself. Not to be outdone, Jim jumped too, with the expected result of hurting his ankle in the process.

Now, my dad's a pretty cool guy -- he looks so smooth with a cigar clenched between his teeth, and he outclasses me on anything physical -- he used to get up at 5 a.m. to jog a couple miles before work every day, and he still holds his own in racquetball against anyone who isn't a total athlete. Plus, he is of the old school fixit dads who make great homeowners because there is hardly a repair job they can't handle. So he's definitely got a high coolness factor.

But nobody was as cool as my uncle Dave. Dave, with his deep, soothing and magical voice; Dave, whose childhood antics later developed into a love for garage rock; Dave, who always had the latest gagets and pinball machines for his kids (and nieces and nephews!) to play with. Dave, whose band members (that he was managing) played Amazing Grace on the sax at his funeral and whose family held up lighters in tribute.

Like the ninja dude, and definitely that guitar kid, I’d say my uncle was easily a Cool Factor 10.