snoburbia, the blog

ap coloring

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In snoburbia, there is a hierarchy in everything.

High school kids in snoburbia must take as many Advanced Placement classes as they can cram into their schedules. But, in a high school where not one, but two kids just became Intel semifinalists, there is snobbery about which AP you take. A boy I happen to know very, very well is proud to be taking his first AP class - AP Human Geography. He spends hours learning the rivers, countries and capitols of Africa and South America and neatly coloring in maps.

His friends tease him for taking "AP Coloring."

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tiger mother

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So, yeah, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is getting its share of attention in snoburbia... as a manual, or as validation. I know many parents like the author, Amy Chua.

One child plays her piano for hours a day. ("Wow, Anna, that is beautiful!" I say as I walk through the front door. She's amazing, her small fingers flying over the keys. "No - don't tell her that! It doesn't sound right yet," says her Tiger Mother.)

I'm more of a capybara mother ("Fun fact: Capybara dive and may remain underwater for as long as five minutes"), or maybe a giant panda mother ("primarily spends its life roaming and feeding in the bamboo forests of the Qinling Mountains").

My son has recently learned how to do a back flip, to juggle, to break-dance, and to recite the Declaration of Independence by heart. And, and! He can do the Hammer dance and knows all the lyrics to U Can't Touch This. 

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nerdvana

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Holy black lotus! I dropped my son off at an event last night at the local strategy game mecca, Dream Wizards. It was nerdvana. There were about 100 gamers from snoburbia and beyond. In the back you had your Magic: The Gathering game. Warhammer dark elves and undead battled in the center. To the right were your Dungeons and Dragons players (among which were the only females in the whole place). I've never seen so many neck beards* in one place.

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* A computer programmer I know assures me that you cannot be taken seriously as a programmer unless you have one.

long down coat

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If you are a woman living in overclass snoburbia, and you are between the ages of 35 and 55, you must have a mid-thigh length down coat*. It must be brown or black.

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* It must not say North Face on it. That was so two years ago. I mean, people at Wheaton Plaza are wearing it now**.

**1. How you know a trend has reached total mass market saturation, or, 2. Where fashion goes to die

don't stand so close to me

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Let's talk about space - mine.

People stand too close to me. People in a snoburbia movie theater line jostle me or brush against my coat. I hate that. Or they stand one foot away when speaking.

But I have just figured it out. It's not them, it's me - and where I'm from.

I noticed, when recently visiting my Appalachian hometown, that a couple awkwardly hugged the other side of the Walmart toy aisle and said, "Excuse me!" as they passed by - four feet away - turning sideways, as if they were encroaching on sovereign territory and must ask for admittance. In my hometown, people a table's width away from you beg your pardon as they pass. Perhaps this prevented violence in the not-so-distant past.

But in snoburbia, apparently, your personal space bubble is defined by shoulders, not by elbows - or the end of your shotgun.

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