Wannabe Wierdos

Let me preface this by saying I believe that in general everyone is 'normal' in some ways, and 'wierd' in others. Although by the very deffinition there must be fewer 'wierdos' in any particular realm than there are 'normal' people. In any case, just because someone appears normal doesn't mean he has a lot in common with the general populace. Likewise, just because someone looks different doesn't mean that they aren't in many more significant ways than appearance, 'just like everyone else.'

I was reminded this evening of a line I wish I could quote properly from my friend Joi's days in the dorms. I think it was something like "I thought I/you were wierd, and then I met your roomate!" This is something that has happened to me numerous times in the past. It seemed I would often meet people who thought of themselves as wierd, different, odd, 'the creative type' because they came from families of especially 'normal' people, yet after my first excited 'fellow wierdo' conversation with them I was frequently disappointed. The things they thought were 'wierd' seemed like very common things to me, or they had only a mild interest in less popular interests we shared.

I fancy that perhaps because of my lack of the obvious symbols of rebellion in our culture, my conservative old fashioned preferences in some areas, and my soft-spoken shyness and reserve, people with whom I may have shared a deeper outlook on life in common with, aside from the variance in some of our fashion tastes, overlooked me as a possible friend because they assumed I must be of a very 'ordinary' persuasion personality-wise.

I was recently reminded of a conversation which I have had all too often with others. Somehow music comes up, and I mention that I don't like any popular music. Or I may even use the word 'rock'. To which they emphatically agree. Oh yes, they don't like any of that stuff either. However, the inevitable shows up shortly thereafter: I discover that once again the way I use the words pop/rock and the way others use them are very different. I fully admit that I use those terms in a very awkward unwieldly sort of way, having the barest knowledge of all the sub-genres that have cropped up since the 1950s and even less of an idea what that limited muscial vocabulary actually refers to. In my book, anything beating out a one-two backbeat on a snare drum, and featuring primarilly someone singing backed by guitars is rock/pop, because I experience all such songs as the same. More often than not they start going on about things called "Alternative", "Indie", "Cybertrance" and other names I can't remember. And there they have lost me. I have nothing to contribute to this music conversation afterall, and I smile and nod and move the topic along as quickly as I can. If I let it out that I haven't heard any of these people I will be subjected to samplings. And if it further gets out that I really have no idea whatsoever what they're going on about, well then, they just stare at me flabbergasted.

Of course bringing up one's taste for classical music usually gets one of two responces, either they regard you as a neanderthal who they have just realised doesn't actually speak their language, or they kind of think you're a snob. A less common responce is enthusiasm, after which, again, I am disappointed because it becomes clear that they consider turning on a "soothing classics" CD for studying or sleeping a love for classical music, and any actuall discussion of it is, similar to my case with the "Alternative" people, completely lost on them. They don't like it for the same reasons I do, and thus haven't taken note of any of the same pieces I like, if any at all. They have a vague feeling they like Mozart and Beethoven, because well, everyone admits those two greats, but mention, say, the Moldau and they think you are talking about moldy cheese. Mention it with a earnest passion and they realise you are an alien.

I have very similar experiences when mentioning that I like soundtracks and musicals. They instantly start naming modern musicals, many of which contain songs of a very 'rock-pop'-ish bent. And it turns out they don't like the symphonic scores to movies, but rather the colllections of popular type songs that have made appearances in movies set in modern-day-times (most of which, naturally, I haven't seen so the nature of their 'soundtracks' may not come out right off.)

It does have an interesting psychological affect, I think, being found odd time and again by the people who thought they were unusual. To be the thing that blows the mind of the odd-balls puts one in a very lonely place. It drives home a sense, not of being an eccentric, those places are filled, but of truely being an alien dealing with a world and language a universe apart from one's own. One can't help bringing to mind all those sci-fi movies where the humans have to debate over whether to treat non-humans humaely, or if that word only applies to the specific species of Earth. It certainly does not incline one to be optimistic in one's approach to engaging with others. Yet, I sometimes actually forget this vast difference within my little circle of like-minded aliens and the worlds of my mind in which I spend much of my time. And when I come in contact with one of these relatively normal people I can't help feeling a little like a scientist on another planet trying to discover if the creatures there, first of all, are sentient, and second how on earth to communicate with them (or even if they are disposed to communicating with you at all).

I am not trying to make any kind of wierdo-elitist claim to status by this observation, being fully aware that there are others just as strange and stranger than me out there. And recognizing that I may have some core traits in common with 'the masses' which span tastes and interests which would yet allow me to relate better with people in general than many others may find themselves capable of. I cannot really know how normal I am, I suppose, without knowing all the span of different people. So I make this observation only from my very limited experience, and make it purely as an interesting comment on life and the experience of the few who are truely different.

It seems that many of the mildly different people who consider themselves wierd, particularly enjoy the idea of being 'counter-culture' or rebellious, and they relish the exlusiveness of being in a minority. An interesting thing to note is that often, as Joi also once pointed out about fellow art students, their claim to uniquness is betrayed by the motto they seem to live by: "be different like everyone else!"


Tracy and I were recently discussing the affects of being not just the odd one, but the one people can't comprehend in social groups. We are both naturally introverts, but feel that this is greatly reinforced by the fact that even if we did wish to connect with people more, we simply wouldn't be able to find anything we could talk about with them and actualy manage to relate. Thus the possibility of developing more social confidence was never really an option with any attraction. It would seem that our shyness is actually not illigitimate immaginings of insecure minds, but the result of endless try-and-fail experiences where it's not just timidity jamming up the conversation, as opposed to a more normal person's fear of not fitting in, when in fact they do have all the common knowlegde they need to forge conversations and relationships with others. It's not just that we immagine people don't like us, but that they actually don't understand us.