Freshman year, college. Reach into my mailbox and pull out a beautifully embroidered invitation to a mixer hosted by a college fraternity, APO. They are inviting me to a mixer. Me!
” Hey Burt, you gotta see this!”
And roommate Burt is very impressed.
” Have Jim Young check it out”
Jim Young, our resident advisor, knew everything from physics to femmes.
Hand the invitation to Jim..slaps his hand to forehead…
“Greg..(very long pause)…do you want to drink beer out of the laps of naked girls..”
“Or call bingo games for the ‘poop in your pants’ crowd?”
“Greg, APO serves coffee at the bloodmobile drive, collects cans of soup at Christmas..no naked honeys, no beer.”
“Greg, those guys are TOOLS.”
The term ‘tool’ has been in my holster ever since.
Last week. Dial out on phone…
“Yo, fucking TOOL! You been streaming videos off WiFi?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess…sorry, Dad.”
“The Verizon bill is the size of the national debt!”
So what is a tool ? Any status that is undesirable by an 18 to 24 year old.
A tool in 1968 is a tool in 2015.
And will remain as such.