White legs aren’t the problem, they’re the symptom

Ahhh! Spring! When the flowers are blooming, the sun feels warmer, and I finally bare my legs with an albedo so strong it blinds the crew on the International Space Station.

I used to be embarrassed by my white legs this time of year, but I’m now 62 and that’s officially Too Old To Care What People Think®. In fact there is lots of stuff I no longer worry about, and my personal appearance is Number One on the list. Creating bad smells is Number Two!

That reminds me of a news item I saw a while back about what archeologists were claiming was the largest – and I’m not making this up – fossilized human turd ever found. They even had a picture!

My response: “Largest? Clearly that’s Number Two!”

Having now fulfilled my obligation to provide at least two poop jokes per blog entry, I think it’s time to “move” on (Ha! Bonus joke!).

Speaking of personal appearances, my friend Dan once told me about his visit to a beauty school where he received a free neck waxing as training for the students. He’s younger than I by a whopping 7 months or so and is surprisingly still concerned with how he looks.

He tried to convince me to give it a try as well because FREE. He didn’t see the look I gave him which was a combination of confusion, contempt, disgust, and amusement (don’t try it at home kids, your face might stay that way!).

“Dan,” I said, “I’m in my sixties. I’m bald. I have a belly hanging over my belt, a bad knee, yellow teeth, Coke bottle glasses and bags under my eyes so big Alaskan Airlines will charge me extra if I ever fly again. What in God’s Green Earth makes you think I care about neck hair?”

The truth is, I live out in the woods with The Missus, the dogs, a couple cats and thousands of trees. None of them care what I look like. Oh, The Missus used to care – she’d buy me a shirt now and then – but thirty-one years of marriage has broke her will to change me. She’s happy if I shower once a week and keep my nose hair under control.