By now most people are aware that I am insanely anti-conformist -- and not in the cool way. While the right amount of anti-conformity can be edgy and hip, I take it way too far to the point that it becomes ridiculous and actually kind of sad. In my highly liberal Jewish middle school I supported George W. Bush just to piss off my classmates. I wrote a paper in high school about how being in a soma universe would actually be kind of fun. I wrote another paper about how John Proctor from The Crucible wasn't a hero, but actually kind of an idiot. Basically, if there is a logical view-point that a vast majority of people agree with, I will almost always go the opposite way, often for no reason other than to be different.
This phenomenon best manifests itself in my disdain for jeans. Yes, jeans. You know, those comfortable pants that look good, are affordable, durable, and require fairly infrequent cleaning? I don't wear them. I can usually be seen wearing my usual cargo pants, with tons of pockets that I almost never use for anything.
I imagine most people who have met me have wondered why I don't just put some jeans on. They may even occasionally wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering "why doesn't Josh wear jeans?! THEY ARE SO COMFORTABLE AND USEFUL." Well, another layer of mystery is about to be removed. Hopefully now you will sleep well.
Like a lot of things I dislike, the reason I don't wear jeans mostly comes down to their popularity. They're a good product that clearly a lot of people enjoy -- and that's the problem. The truth is, anything that is as popular as jeans are kind of freaks me out a bit. It makes me think that we're all close to becoming clones that all dress and act the same. I also don't really think people are particularly smart, so when the majority of the population accepts something, I automatically assume that it is wrong. This is the way my mind works, unfortunately.
The other issue is that I have pretty much lost my chance to ever be a jeans wearer. If I, at age 19, were suddenly to show up wearing jeans for the first time in my life, it would be a pretty wild scene. I can't imagine myself ever wearing jeans, and I doubt anyone else can either. That ship has sailed. It'd be like the episode of Seinfeld where Kramer finally puts on jeans, and all of his friends just laugh at him. I might as well show up with an eye patch or a monocle if I'm going to suddenly start wearing jeans now.
So now I don't wear jeans. Forever. I have made my decision, and now must live with the consequences. Fortunately, I don't think I'm missing out on anything too awesome. And when the entire jeans wearing world have become mindless drones enslaved by an evil race of aliens, I'll be standing on the side with my cargo pants on, laughing at everyone as one of our new alien overlords hands me a whip and welcome me as one of their own. Then we will see who is laughing. Or not, I don't really know what I'm talking about.