The Deserted Bandwagon

Author: MATT KUNZWEILER

As much as I try to avoid falling into the typical college student stereotype (a.k.a. yuppie-in-the-works), I recently came to the realization that this shameful label might just fit me better than I would like to think. I write fiction, talk on my cell phone while driving my SUV, own a few articles of vintage clothing, enjoy my DVD episodes of "The Family Guy,"dabble in acoustic guitar and keep a mini fridge in my dorm room (although I refuse to stock it with Busch Light - "The brewski of choice!" I'm not that far lost).

But I guess I fit that obnoxious stereotype - and in my eyes, there is nothing more criminal than promoting a negative stereotype by fitting it perfectly. If someone with a popped collar tells me that his email is nasdaq_fan@hotmail.com this reflects poorly on anyone with the same fashion sense. If I see a frat boy tell a girl at a party that he and his "brothers" have won the beer olympics the past three years running, this is a strike against frat boys everywhere. So please, do not confirm people's stereotypes - you're only encouraging crude biases.

I feel I have a social responsibility to throw a monkey wrench into the stereotype of which I have suddenly found myself a member. In an effort to do this, I contacted an old high school acquaintance (sadly, through thefacebook - further solidifying my membership). The young man I called, Kevin Truman, was the student in my high school graduating class whom I had expected to most fully adopt the college boy image - this was mainly because of his acoustic guitar playing, frosty hair and tasteful hemp necklace.

Kevin has continued his guitar playing, and his public performances had turned him into somewhat of a celebrity on his campus (this was affirmed by another friend at the same college). I asked Kevin to send me his CD, and sure enough, when it arrived, he sounded the same as he did in high school. As he covered Tom Petty and Sublime, his disturbing singing voice, which sounded like it was making wild, uneducated stabs in the dark, successfully diverted my attention from his sub-mediocre guitar work.

Kevin was lauded in high school because our class suffered from a musical talent deficiency - an artistic drought of sorts. Kevin was simply the only act in town. We had all expected the praise to end when Kevin found a larger or more talented community.

Confused by his lack of improvement and recent success, I called him again and asked if he could explain the phenomenon. "Kunzweiler," he told me, "they don't come to hear me rock, they come for the dollar draughts of Busch Light. But my music provides the perfect soundtrack for gettin' wasted!" I couldn't argue. Kevin has made it his mission to promote the stereotype - and here, he shines. He is the frontman for the stereotype to which I belong, and as long he's up on stage, rockin' in the free world, and I'm not, there's nothing I can do about it.