Epidemic!
First, it was planking. Then came the Ice Bucket Challenge. And now, ladies and gentlemen, drumroll please… introducing Selfus Adoration Compulsive Snapshotting, otherwise known as The Selfie epidemic.
It caught on in a flash.
Now, I grew up, like a lot of y'all, in a world without cell phones, smartphones, or whatever the hell we're calling these things today. I thought a flip phone was the height of technological advancement. Hell, I thought I was communicating with the Enterprise. "Beam me up, Scotty!"
Nowadays, your phone can order you dinner, conduct business, serve as your checkbook, probably file your taxes, replace brain power, and, most importantly, provide you with your very own Selfus Adoration Compulsive Snapshotting apparatus.
And it's everywhere. You can spot these folks from three counties away. Just look for that arm extended somewhere above the head, phone tilted at a 37-degree angle, trying to capture just enough of the surroundings to document where they are. Because apparently, being somewhere ain't enough anymore. You gotta provide photographic evidence to the rest of humanity that you were, in fact, there.
They are doing the Selfie Smash!
And this ain't limited to some particular demographic, neither. Men, women, young, old, all participating in this great American tradition of photographing themselves. I've seen fellas north of 30 doing it with such frequency that I'm beginning to suspect there's a growing epidemic of tennis elbow from excessive arm extension. Somebody ought to get the CDC involved or call Boris Pickett.
It's a little like the Monster Mash. Remember Boris Pickett? Of course you do. Hell, I was less than a year old when that thing came out, but I remember it like yesterday. Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
The Selfie is about as close to the Monster Mash as modern civilization is ever gonna get to that dude.
You've got the funny faces, the awkward poses, the exaggerated expressions, all performed with the utmost seriousness. Boris had his monsters doing the mash. We've got an entire population doing the Selfie Smash.
And naturally, the Breeders' Cup has been no exception. These egotistical little monsters are everywhere, doing their own version of the Monster Mash, phones extended, faces contorted, making sure the world knows they're at the Breeders' Cup. Apparently, the horses running for championships are just the background scenery for the main attraction: them.
And here's the thing, somewhere between the 47th selfie and the 48th, did anybody happen to notice there's actually horse racing going on? I mean, imagine that! It's October 31st, Breeders' Cup Saturday, championships on the line, some of the best horses in the world assembled in one place, and we've got a whole bunch of folks more interested in photographing themselves than watching the very reason they bought a ticket in the first place.
The horses, y'all. THE HORSES!
So, this Halloween, if you're wandering around the Breeders' Cup and come across one of these creatures performing the Selfie Smash, do me a favor. Ask 'em whatever happened to the Transylvania Twist?
Because, after all, it's a graveyard smash!
Just remember, folks, the horses didn't come all this way to be extras in your Instagram documentary. There's a reason we're here. And it ain't to see what you look like holding a phone above your head.
Happy Halloween, y'all!🎃
