Tag Appearances

A rose by another name

Michael 8 Comments

Last week I poked fun at “man fashion.” It’s only fair the women now get their turn. Specifically, inked up women. Full disclosure, I am not a tattoo person. Quite like golf, I know I am a minor minority in that regard, but I just don’t get the point. Specifically in women. Especially beautiful, well put together women. Which is like 99.7% of them. All women are beautiful, except the tattooed ladies. So the percentage of beautiful, well put together women is dropping but that’s life.

Before I get into the meat and potatoes of this post, a work of advice to the tatted up broads, career advice. If you are in a field where you handle food or drugs, please don’t tattoo the back of your hand. In the last week I had a server set a plate in front of me with a hand on which she had a spider inked onto the back. And the cashier at the pharmacy handed me my prescription with her hand adorned with skull and crossbones. Can I just say, “Blech!”

Also in the last week I was at the service center customer waiting lounge at the car dealer. Yes, I was just there a few weeks ago.  Different car. I took a seat by the coffee pot because my knee was bothering me, and I didn’t want to walk very far several times an hour. A young lady walked up to the machine and admittedly, I stared. She was a very good-looking lady. Mind you, I have never been one of the crowd that says, ladies, if you don’t want to be looked at, don’t make yourself so look-able. But she was definitely look-able. And she sported ink.

So many people getting tattooed pick designs that mean something to them. Recently there had been a trend, especially among women, to cut through all the representation art and just put out there what they want to say with words, so now catchy phrases and famous quotes are appearing on human canvases. This lady at the coffee machine had taken that route and had words tattoos on the side of her foot, which was wearing a sandal, those exposing nearly all of the letters that made up all of the words. I had to stare so I could figure out what it said! She was not only look-able, she also had a sense of witty humor for on her foot she had emblazoned, “Put your best foot forward.” I kind of liked that. I wasn’t liking that she huffed and puffed at me about being some sort of foot pervert and to stop staring at her.

I remembered that advice later that same day when I was in the checkout line in the nearby Walmart, a place not known for instilling conservative dress and appearance in its customers. A lady in front of me was as look-able as the coffee machine lady, but for completely different reason. She also appeared well endowed with natural beauty, had well cared for hair and manicure. She seemed every bit a lady except that she was wearing basically swimwear and had a tattoo. Not a single phrase on the side of her foot, but a 2 or 3 inch wide thorny stem wrapping around her leg until it disappeared in her short, short bottoms and then reappeared wrapped around her exposed midriff and then ducking out of sight again under the bottom of her rather brief top. It did not continue up from the top of the top, but rather did a rose appear within her cleavage. Just a single rose although the corporeal vase easily could have held a dozen. Long stems and all.

But I didn’t stare. I’m not sure if I had if it would have bothered her much. I noticed she paid cash for the television and sound bar she was purchasing. I started staring as she carefully counted out her payment in one dollar bills.

Last week we celebrated “Start Over Day,” a day set aside to try again to master that which disappointed you the first time around. Learn from that disappointing experience and start over to make it better. We write how it can be the beginning of a new adventure in the most recent Uplift, Try, Try Again.

Shave and a Haircut

Michael 5 Comments

I still can’t get used to it. Although I try to avoid my face in the mirror – well, maybe not avoid as much as not concentrate on – I have been spending more and more time staring at myself every morning.

About a month ago I became completely clean shaven. That hasn’t happened for over 30 years. And even before that it was a week to week decision regarding facial hair arrangement. Now that I’ve gone close to a handful of weeks without anything there you’d think seeing all of my face looking back at me wouldn’t be that disconcerting. Most of the time it isn’t but that first-thing-in-the-morning glance still returns an element of surprise. It’s probably because I forget what I look like by the time the morning comes having not seen me for the whole night.Mustache

I didn’t decide to shave everything off my cheeks and chin because of any new fashion statement I was looking to make. I didn’t do it for the love of a woman, the lust of a mate, or even at the suggestion of a friend. No, I did it for the most common of reasons assuming that anybody who has changed his facial appearance is completely honest about the reason for the change. I shaved completely because of the dreaded trimming accident.

Trimming, the bane of those who would let a little of nature show through on their visage without so much that he may be mistaken for a member of a well-known family whose patriarch holds a patent for duck calls. Trimming is tough! You have this fancy specialized piece of equipment with all these different heads and guides and they all have adjustments for different lengths and … well … if you happen to have the wrong guide on or the right one set at the wrong length and … well … if it’s a little early and you’re a little tired and … well … things happen.

So, at least for now, I’ve rejoined the ranks of men who scrape blade across skin each morning – ok, most mornings. Good thing I never got rid of my old razor.

Anybody know if they still make double edge blades?