So when, exactly, do I become a member of this coastal cultural elite that I hear so sneeringly derided? I don't think that I'm a member, although I'll readily admit to wanting to be an "elite..." something or other. But although that vilified segment of the population sounds a lot like me, I have a hard time thinking of myself as any sort of elite.
I mean, I like lattes, but at $3.50 a pop, it's not a taste I can regularly indulge.
We like to do Big Cultural Things, but our access to that relies on T.'s practiced eye for must-sees and good deals rather than being able to just randomly decide we'd like to try that opera thing.
I'm sure the mythical Martian sociologist would classify us as culturally as "creative class," but we're definitely on the lower edge of that spectrum.
I'll cop to being a snob when it comes to some things, but elite? C'mon. I don't even know the secret handshake.
The trick is with the pinkie. Try this. Do the spock/mork thing with your shaking hand. Got it? Now, move your ring finger up against your middle finger so that your pinkie is hanging out all by its lonesome. That's it, you're ready to shake. Catch you shaking partner's pinkie with yours in the obvious manner.
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