The other evening my lovely friend
"A" sat in the radiant glow of a
candlelit table. She stated "I think
I need to get a little work done".
My response? "Honey, you don't
need to do a thing!" How can such
an elegant visage appear "tired" to
it's owner? The idea of an overhaul
seems as offensive replacing your
bergerre with a Barcalounger.
Don't you wonder what some of us
see when they look at ourselves in
the mirror? My gut tells me most
view either Dorian Gray or a dew
kissed ingenue. Either are deceiving
or delusional. Whatever you see,
why do we boomers seem hell bent
on stopping the clock? In all reality
our efforts don't do much beyond
tighten and plump the sadly decayed
remnants of your sordid youth. Is
that really worth all that time to end
up gleaming like a polished Pontiac?
As we age, whether we like it or not we
all get older. What's wrong with a little
mileage? Most men seem to embrace
the slow and subtle effects of longevity.
A few lines on one's facade is thought
to add character. A mop of silver lends
a distinguished note of maturity. Even
a bit of a belly indicates one knows the
finer things in life. And yet, in our new
metrosexual world, young men seem to
be battling the clock long before they
have any reason to even think of doing
so! Is this vanity or "prevention"?
What drives us all to long for a cheese
cloth glazed existence where anything
that proves we've learned something is
fuzzy at best? I often wonder what if
the cash we spend on potions, lotions,
and others elixirs of youth was instead
re purposed for the better good? One
can surmise that we might end world
hunger with our misspent youth funds.
What's most pathetic is that many of us
think it's working. Beyond Botox or the
knife, all else sits atop the ruins rather
than deeply infiltrates our catacombs.
Don't get me wrong. Some of this
stuff must be working for someone.
In fact it's so good that virtually no
one knows it. Subtlety is important
in all aspects of life but never more
invaluable than when combating the
ravages of time. You see it's best to
embrace the fact that whatever girl
you were at sixteen is not returning
any time soon. Therefore one must
work with what one has and slowly
tweak what one has left to work with.
LESS IS MORE.
If anybody needs proof that it isn't
working all one has to do is visit
any of the popular Upper East Side
haunts. On any evening at Swifty's
they are lined up in all their glory.
Barely able to part their slits to sip
a martini they bravely regale all as
they carry on their delusion of days
gone by. Given their work costs as
much as many other's homes, it's
beneficial to view the carnage and
learn. In the end I'm confident that
most will agree, better left alone!
