Effete snobbery

Around the office I'm developing a reputation for being a man of high culture. However, this erudite, elite, intellectual image my co-workers have developed seems skewed by relativity.

It all begins with the way I ordinarily choose to spend my lunch break, namely, nose buried in a book. And the fact that I seem to have a different book every couple of days or so. And certainly the highfalutin quality of many of the tomes in which I'm ensconced myself, from Camus to Václav Havel, exudes a certain (false) air of sophistication. At least in their minds.

To a lesser extent, I think I'm set apart by my interests. Beyond reading, I of course want to become a professor of Eastern European history. Pretty heady stuff, they think. Maybe this is a sign of a certain sophistication (I'd like to think so), but I think it's more a product of them sharing in sort of the cultural detachment and aloofness vis à vis Eastern Europe that is an American pandemic.

It also didn't help matters earlier in this week when I decided to style myself a feudal lord in reference to the office copier, and began describing it as "my own personal fiefdom" and then demanding tribute, namely 80 percent of the grain harvest, from the office manager to permit her to use it. But that's more just a particular quirk of mine.

What really distinguishes me from the rest of the office seems to be my blissful ignorance and latent contempt for pop culture.

This became truly apparent during lunch yesterday. The conversation turned to the previous evening's television shows, which isn't terribly atypical. But yesterday the talked turned to Fox's "The O.C.," mention of which prompted a sly smirk to come across my countenance. Now, they didn't realize initially why "The O.C." in particular inspires a certain amusement in me; few of my co-workers seem cognizant of the fact that I was born and raised in Orange County, Calif., and lived there up through high school, where I knew and knew of several teens who fit many of the stereotypes depicted in the Fox drama.

Still, this misunderstanding made for some levity, when one of the senior staff members, noticing my sudden state of bemusement, demanded to know what I was reading, just for comparison. I explained that it was a book by a New Yorker writer, which certainly heightened the contrast. Though it would've been worse had this been earlier in the week, when I was indeed reading Camus' The Rebel.

And, to my credit, I didn't try to play up my apparent cultural arrogance, though I easily could have. For, while much of the office was watching "The O.C." the night before, I happened to be at the local classic movie house taking in a German film, "Good Bye, Lenin!"

Nonetheless, I don't do much to give lie to their impression of me. It's true that I generally disdain pop culture, especially TV. But I don't avoid it strictly. I seldom watch television, yes, but I'm a huge fan of "The Simpsons," and I am moderately conversant in a lot of pop cultural phenomena of the day. Reality TV is a glaring exception, and one I strictly adhere to on principle. But I've seen a fair number of popular films (though not lately), and I've even read the major works of Dan Brown (but mainly because my mom got them for me at Christmas).

So I'm not totally out of place at these conversations. Nor do I think less of my co-workers for escaping into pop culture. And I'm not trying to position myself as a sophisticate. Quite the contrary; I think my secondary education was rather provincial, and in matters of high culture I feel like a dilettante. However, if they want to think of me as being truly refined, I'll take that.