Thursday, October 9, 2008


I'm sitting at a local coffeeshop, Shades of Brown. I've observed something about Tulsa's Indie crowd. Maybe it's just that it's hitting here, now, but things seem altogether harmless and decidedly less bohemian than one would expect.

Unlike the urban Indie scenes of Bucktown, Greenwich Village, or South Austin, Tulsa has a very clean gloss over the stylishly un-done hair, almost mismatched clothes and tight jeans and shirts that pervade the "scene". The indie kids drive in to the areas of town that are cool enough to be noticed from the comfort of McMansions and hard-earned cash of their parents. They might get jobs working at retail stores or maybe the local Whole Foods, but inthe end, they cannot afford to life near their haunts and settle for cookie-cutter apartments in giant complexes that greet you as you drive from city center to suburbia.

Sure, everyone has an upturn their every sentence, as if they must always ask questions to seem as though they are questioning their reality that is "so, like, paternalistic?" I suppose everything is in the interrogative.

But where do these questions lead? That's what I DON'T see. I don't see the essence of the movement here. I don't see people being innovators for sustainability, or even throwing gender roles on the ear the way that the music out of Portland and Austin did to kick off the music. Where are the sensitive intellectuals that are to ride in the wake of Ginsberg, Creely, and Kerouac?

Perhaps the thing against which they rebel they depend upon so deeply, money and comfort. To some degree, they must believe that there is a safety net. Otherwise, how could they feel comfortable making $6.00 an hour banging out espressos at these icons of Indie?

I am interested to see how the discomfort will manifest as the economy gets tighter and fewer people can will be willing or able to shell out $5.00 for a cup of coffee or payfor shiny computers to access the wi-fi at the local caffeinated watering hole.