Nerdfest 3000, by Jenny Bahn

As I stand next to my boyfriend, both of us waiting for the opportunity to own a little slice of heaven (read: iPad), I watch as an ever-expanding line of nerds, business suits, and intellectual hipsters (read: nerds repackaged in a better looking uniform) grows to touch Houston Street.  All Apple fans share a similar willingness to wait to get their tech fix; itching for the newest and coolest that Apple has to offer like a junkie does meth, but without the missing teeth and generalized life obliteration.

Any person or entity offering a product, be it celebrity as product, music as product, or product as product, that is capable of attracting large throngs of people has free license to be a total and utter egomaniac.  Go to megalomania.  Go straight to megalomania.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect $200. Well, that last Monopoly rule need not apply; Steve Jobs made more money than God ever will.  And that’s why Steve Jobs gives me a boner.  That’s not to say that Steve Jobs is a megalomaniac, although after witnessing first hand the shit show that was the launching of the 3G iPad, I would completely understand if he were a real obnoxious asshole.  That would be within his rights as a purveyor of awesomeness.

Lines usually suggest one or a few of the following: popularity, inefficiency, or importance.  To me, lines have always been a good indicator of cultural significance.  This doesn’t necessarily mean that if you’re not attracting a parade of people while you walk down the street that your life is irrelevant in terms of the history of this universe, it just means that…well, actually it does mean that.  While I hate to admit that Britney Spears will have had a greater impact on the world than myself when I’m good and done with this place, it is conceivably going to be the case.

There are, of course, the “silent partners” of this world.  These are the people who keep the wheels of our lives in motion while we go on ignorantly about our days, buying coffees and planning vacations.  These are the brains of science, finance, and education.  Such people are infinitely smarter than the rest of us peons.  That’s okay with me.  After all, I don’t have the foggiest idea how to make it into space or run a Fortune 500 company or teach third graders how to read, for that matter.  I’m glad there are people that do.  That’s just the way the world works.

For instance, at the MoMA earlier today, whilst getting my inspiration/ inferiority complex jollies off, there was an exhibit titled Rising Currents: Projects for New York’s Waterfront.*  The project commissioned a group of architects to propose ways in which to save Manhattan from impending doom: the partial submersion of the city’s outer banks courtesy of today’s biggest and most legitimate scapegoat, global warming.  The inevitable rise in sea level is estimated to reach six to eight feet by 2100.  Manhattan’s periphery will essentially be rendered an X-Games playground for fish and mermaids.  SoHo will become waterfront property.

The room was a mind-bending combination of concepts beyond my reach and technology I couldn’t even dream of.  Pathways will be turned into a combination of cement pavers and organic matter, capable of absorbing excess water.  There are proposed parks built in order to create an organic barrier capable of merging the sea with the city.  The list goes on.

I left the room feeling frustrated that I was not doing more with my life and when I say more with my life, I mean more for the planet.  These people are doing things that matter.

So to recap, here’s my ranking in terms of importance:

1) Rising Currents architects

2) Steve Jobs and Apple

3) Britney Spears

4) Me

In terms of popularity:

1) Britney Spears

2) Steve Jobs and Apple

3) Rising Currents

4) Me

While I appreciate going to exhibits like Rising Currents and while I enjoy the magical gadgetry of an iPad, I can’t help but feel like I’m slowly developing an inferiority complex, however slight.  This is what it must be like to be old and looking back on a life in which you contributed nothing to society except babies.

Back to the nerdfest.

Everyone stands patiently, the wind blowing pleasantly and the sun dipping behind the buildings.  It’s almost 5 PM – that’s when the doors open and the games begin.  The anticipation is palpable and unapologetic.  A group of people in Smurf-colored shirts – from this point forward known as “Team Apple” – comes out of a door in the brick building cheering and shouting like we’re in 2^nd grade summer camp.  They turn the corner of Prince Street and solicit cheers from the bystanders closest to the door.  They’re like emotional fluffers.  The noise level is comparable to that anticipatory time before a concert when the roadies start tuning guitars in front of an overly eager audience.  When people are generally stoked, they’ll cheer for pretty much anything.  Even roadies.  Even dorks wearing the color Smurf.

What I find most interesting about Apple products are the varying demographics it attracts.  To illustrate a prime example of the diversity of Apple fans, I present you with the following:

Exhibit A:  A young, African American male.  Tight black jeans.  Beautifully cut gray jacket (most likely Rag and Bone) scrunched up to the elbows.  Chunky silver rings, possibly of skulls but not in a garish Ed Hardy way.  Hermes wallet.  Another wallet, this time Balenciaga.  Both of the aforementioned wallets filled with enough cash to purchase an iPad in full.  Black shoes that are the sneaker equivalent to motorcycle boots (also not garish, but tastefully done).  A fanciful hairdo that is one part Afro and two parts Mohawk.  I want to lie and tell him I have a style blog just to take a picture of this kid.  He is fantastic.

Exhibit B:  A mid-thirties, balding, could-have-been-ginger-before-he-lost-all-of-his- hair, Caucasian male.  New Jersey accent.  Short sleeved button up and light washed denim.  White Apple headphones connected to the Apple iPhone tucked into his jeans.  He talks unnecessarily loudly about a videogame called “Assassin’s Creed” with a dork on the other end who isn’t getting in a word edgewise judging from the pace at which awful bullshit comes spewing out of this guy’s mouth.  This is probably okay with his conversation buddy, who is most likely masturbating to vintage Zelda footage circa 1996.

Needless to say, I’m siding with Exhibit A.

The time approaches 5 PM.  I know it’s coming because there is a countdown.  I hear it rise from the front of the store.  Ten!  Nine!  Eight!  Seven!  Six!  Five!  Four!  Three!  Two!  One!  YAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!! We have officially reached a cruising altitude of nerdthousand feet; please feel free to move about the cabin.

For how ever many people are actually in line, it moves quickly.  Apple Team kids corral us up in winding lines like a ride at the amusement park.  The Ginger Nerd behind me insists on smoking a cigarette the entire time, having now roped the Tall Nerd behind him into a person-to-person conversation.

When we reach the interior of the store, we are greeted by a wave of cheers that bounce off the floor and off the skylights and into my head and I feel like I’ve just done something meritorious, not the consumerist reality the whole event really is.  It’s like I’ve finished a marathon, not like I’m dumping 1K into Steve Job’s wallet.

The scene is reminiscent of the stock exchange trading floor.  Little Apple Smurfs run around assisting customers like remote control robots.  The clapping and cheering make it impossible to hold a conversation that doesn’t require yelling to compensate and you can’t concentrate on anything but the near instinctual desire to buy, buy, buy.  Then again, that’s probably the point.  Steve Jobs knows what he’s doing.  I’m just the little peon in an invisible hamster wheel.

*For Info on Rising Currents: Projects for New York’s Waterfront:

http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1031
http://www.moma.org/explore/inside_out/category/rising-currents

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