That's not to say I'm not cool. Even prep sports writer Nick Birdsong once said I'm one of the coolest cats here at Mothership Consolidated. One might argue that's like saying I'm the skinniest guy at Weight Watchers — and point out I control Bird's employment, too — but I digress.
I default to boot-cut jeans and a button-up over some ridiculous Ed Hardy ensemble.
Terrestrial radio is alien to the speakers of my truck — instead I crave the classic tunes of Willie or Dylan or the newer sounds of a 20-minute Phish jam or a Robert Earl Keen tale.
And when it comes time to unwind, I've given up crowds, instead choosing low-key conversation.
With respect to the latter, it's a metaphor for my viewing habits, as well — SportsCenter withstanding, of course.
Shows like American Idol, Friends and Lost were always, well, lost on me.
Then came Tivo, and now Netflix.
The first brought me into the casual conversation of must-see TV, but not all the way into the inner circle.
Over the past few years, my circle of friends would venture into deep, spirited conversations about Lost.
It's kind of like a non-funny Gilligan's Island written by Hunter S. Thompson. And that's all I really know right now, midway through the second season.
And I knew nothing before, except it was about a bunch of folks who were apparently lost.
Heck, I even camped under my Anniston crew's flag of the DHARMA Initiative at Bonnaroo, but sat with a look on my face akin to a monkey trying to do a math problem. "That ship has sailed," they'd say. "Don't even try to start watching it now. You'd never understand what's going on."
Enter through stage right: Netflix and its instant streams.
The most recent lazy Sunday, I clicked on Season One, just to see what the all the fuss was about.
At that moment — or the moment I saw a polar bear on a tropical island — the science of addiction became real. I've already watched over 40 episodes in five days.
I've thrown my life into ink before. Numerous Day-in-the-life stories, a six-week couch-to-5K series a few years back.
Now, for a marathon back on the couch. Before the final season debuts on Feb. 2, I will be caught up. I will have something to add to the conversation.
That is, if my brain isn't fried by then. After all, it's 103 episodes in 16 days.
If I'm not back next week, send out a search party.
... and now I'm found
Sports editor Bran Strickland is on a crusade to catch up with Lost before the final-season premiere on Feb. 2. Follow his progress — but don't give spoilers — on Twitter, @Bran_Strickland.