Sarah Silverman, left, with Jerry Seinfeld (A grab from Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee) Notice Silverman’s backpack and Seinfeld’s neon yellow sneakers.
I detest backpacks. They look like an outgrowth growing out of people’s backs for which there is no medical cure.
Some people are so attached to their knapsacks that they are no longer two separate things. You cannot tell where their natural human skin ends and the polyurethane coated Cordura Nylon begins. I suspect that the two have bonded and grown into each other. What began as grafting has now fully and seamlessly merged.
Not that I have developed any scientific standards to make this fashion judgment but there is no more inelegant sight in human history than a man wearing brown pleated polyester trousers, a checked red and yellow shirt, white sneakers, and carrying a backpack. That combination says, “I have given up all hope in life.” Incidentally, sneakers are in the same category as backpacks.
My aversion for backpacks is an extension of carrying anything at all, including a wallet. I dislike carrying anything on my person. The weight of my conceit is more than enough. If I must carry something, I must try and minimize the number of things. In my ideal world, people should have multiples of everything they need and want at multiple places. Everybody should have everything, everywhere. That way people do not have to carry anything. In any case, what do people need a backpack for? What have they packed inside that is so very essential that it must mount on their backs and go wherever they are going? Some men are so attached to their backpacks that I wonder whether they have sex wearing those as well.
As you can perhaps guess by now I do not like backpacks and I am rather anal about it. It is entirely possible that I am overstating my disdain for backpacks but it is a safe target. I doubt very much if those who carry them will protest. On the other hand though, most of suicide bombers too carry those. So I should probably stop here.
Having worked up my bile sufficiently, it might be opportune to announce Season 2 of Jerry Seinfeld’s online series ‘Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee’. I wrote about the first season in my blog on August 24. Season 2 seems to have gone more commercial with sponsor Acura being integrated into the conversation by Seinfeld saying that he is bringing the sponsor into the conversation. The first episode features the unfailingly and astutely funny Sarah Silverman. One minor quibble is that like all great comedians she too has developed that smug self-assurance that most great comedians have about their material. They know they are unlikely to fail once they have reached a certain level of success. That self-assurance gives them an unintended look of smugness. I mean this as a compliment.
There is at least a tangential connection between my dislike for backpacks/ sneakers and this particular episode. Silverman too carries a backpack just as Seinfeld wears his sneakers. But at least in Silverman’s case it is redeemed by the fact that Silverman is carrying it. See how Seinfeld’s jeans bunches up just above the neon yellow sneakers. There is no redemption for a combination that includes a blazer, T-shirt and sneakers. But that’s just me.
CCGC, an annoying acronym for the show, serves no particular purpose other than giving two comedians, who have already made a career out their angst-ridden self-absorption, a platform to do more of some of that. I am not contractually obligated to watch it and then comment on it. I do so because somewhere along the line it has captured my imagination; I mean the idea that someone can make money just drinking coffee and making observations.
The segue from my utter dislike for backpacks and sneakers to CCGC is admittedly a labored one. But then you don’t pay me a farthing to read this blog.