Get me the paddles... this blog is coming back to life!

Driving to work this morning I found myself behind a red 1980s BMW 3 series, which I ended up following for about 5 miles. This would usually be an insignificant part of my 25min morning fog of a commute, but this was different. Trailing this car, with its random bumper sticker and jerky 5-speed driver immediately unraveled a string of memories bringing me right back to the fall of 2006, and my trip to San Francisco, which was my first introduction to all things “hipster” and how I learned a new word I won't soon forget.

Come, pull up a chair.

October 2006, my first trip to northern California. The BF at the time had a really good friend (I’ll call him Roger) he’d known since elementary school who moved out west after college. Roger was forever extending an invitation to us to come for a visit. I’d met Roger and hung out with him on several occasions, so that year we finally took him up on his offer. We had no doubt he’d be a great host and we could jam pack our 5 day trip with lots of sights in his 1980s BMW 3 series (yup, there’s the tie-in).

Let me preface this story by pointing out that San Francisco didn’t turn this guy hipster. Oddly enough, it was almost as if Roger was born pre-qualified, and as soon as the term, and all it encompassed, made its way into pop culture nomenclature, he was it… this hipster thing, personified! 
Merriam Webster defines Hipster as: a person who is unusually aware of and interested in new and unconventional patterns (as in jazz or fashion). Hmm, that’s a mediocre definition at best, and only the tip of the iceberg. Add to that: a penchant for the vegetarian lifestyle since birth, all things Jack Kerouac and the Beat movement, speaking in seldom used SAT vocab words, and a favorite, well-worn sweater with tweed patches adorning the elbows (an amazing thrift store find, for sure), all while drinking tap water out of a mason jar. Because duhhh, using them for canning jam is, like, so mainstream.

Speaking of the vocab words, one memorable moment of this trip was a late night Scrabble game. Yes, this was a tangible board game, pre- Words with Friends, where you actually had to keep score. Surrounded by bottles of local wine (local as in the vineyard was an hour away), an impressive array of cheese from the corner market, and an ubercrusty baguette, (because God forbid you go to a supermarket in San Fran, oh the horror.), we launched a battle with lettered tiles as our weapons.

It was PA vs. CA; me and the BF vs. Roger and his friend Evan. There was indie music (of course) shuffling on the iPod, a dim glow of IKEA lamps filling the apartment, and a fierce competition brewing within us. Pass me my wine, please.

Evan wasn’t a small man. Standing over 6’, he had a full beard and sported a sweater that probably should have been bought a size larger (important to note, this decision is hipster approved). Looked like he should have been chopping wood up in Alaska, not sipping wine and Scrabbling in San Fran. The conversation was casual, the wine and cheese made the rounds, and then came the defining moment which I will recreate below.

Mid-game, Roger places a word carefully on the board, a high point play.
The word: fatwa

BF: “Fatwa? What the hell is that?”

Roger: (looking at Evan) “Fatwa. That’s legit, right Evan?”

Evan: (beaming with assurance) “Of course. Fatwa. Right on. Nice play man.”

Me: (sneaking a glance at BF) “We’re getting scammed. I’ve never heard of that.”

Roger: (grabbing the Mac laptop for verification, a cloud of confidence hovering overhead)
“Fatwa. Here’s the definition…You guys have never heard of it?", (a genuine puzzled look spreads across his face)

He proceeds to read the definition: a legal opinion or decree handed down by an Islamic religious leader.

Ohhhh
Oh, oh wow, yeah

RIGHT!
Of course!

FATWA! We should have known that, silly, silly us. Perhaps we should just ask SJU and Boston College for refunds at this point. This is the moment where the many facets of Roger collide, in a perfect storm kind of way: west coast hipster meets Ivy League graduate meets a higher than usual intellect- when all 3 just carefully walk the line of making you want to truly admire his intelligence while simultaneously wanting to slap him straight out of his retro Nikes.

Needless to say, we lost the Scrabble game. No sore losers here though. The trip continued with a jaunt to wine country, a visit to SFMoMA, a no-reservations-made walk into a well known sushi joint (yeah, we’ll take the table in the corner. Perfect). It really was a fabulous time. It met all my requirements for an ideal trip and I came home refreshed, inspired, and excited about where I should go next.

Fast forward to 2012. I’ve got 5+ Words with Friends games going on my trusty (non-hipster) Android phone. My turn is up, and I'm shuffling these tiles about ten times when my eyes and mind connect on a particular set of letters- A T F W. Waaaait a minute. With an A already on the board in prime position, I throw down fatwa like a wannabe Scrabble boss. Boom!

Soon after comes the internal message from my opponent: “Fatwa??”

“Yeah” I type, with the biggest possible smirk plastered on my face. “That word’s totally legit."
(Giggling to myself at this point, remembering that night in 2006 when a hipster served us up a word 98 out of 100 Americans polled on the street wouldn't know)

"You’ve never heard of it?”