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Love and A Ton Of Plastic Surgery
Lifted me...
That and the coming of the New Year and the fact that my industrial sized tub of concealer is empty, so I accidentally dipped my hand into a sample pack of face cream that turned out to be either a mixture for stripping wallpaper or for resurfacing concrete driveways. Either way, I stand here looking in the mirror at a face I have not seen in many many years. There are many stories in the naked city, and many more on this naked face staring back at me.
Wrinkles and crinkles, lines and creases where my dimples used to be. In fact, lots of stuff that isn’t where it used to be. Sagging and bagging into the light. Droopy eyelids, age spots that once were freckles, and ah yes, the errant chin hair spiraling out of my face.
When, I think did my nose grow so large or has my exterior receded.
Never mind the jowls where my cheeks used to be or the fact that I amwearing a turtle neck to hide the turkey neck that lurks beneath.
I will not bore you nor embarrass myself with the details of the rest of my remaining body parts now waiting to be hoovered up somewhere between my knees and the floor.
Time for a joke that is not on me. Ha!
Once upon a time a fellow went on a crash starvation diet, as his New Year Resolution to be a new man. He lost almost 500 pounds in six weeks. At the end of his fast, he gazed at his new reflection in the mirror. Amazing. However, he glanced down to see a ginormous puddle of leftover skin resting on his ankles. Simple. He thought. I just need a little lift. So he gathered up and lifted all his extra skin over his head, secured it neatly with a large rubber band and cleverly covered it all up with a jaunty felt fedora. He hopped into his new sports car, a reward for his dieting success, and roared off down the road. Idling at a stoplight, he noticed the two elderly ladies idling in the next lane. Since they were staring at him with such obvious envy of his new good looks, he tipped his hat and smiled. When the light changed, the women turned to one another and spoke. The first woman said, “Nice looking man.”
The other replied, “ Yes, yes indeed, but there was something rather odd about his tie.”
And with that said, I confess that I spent a ridiculous amount of time online, reading up on minor cosmetic surgery. Nothing serious, just a bit of a lift. A touch up. A pinch or a tweak. Botox. A cheeky lift.
Chemical resurfacing. A little sandpaper dermabrasion. Some vacuuming, you know, a little bit of suction, delicate contouring, a tuck here, a patch there, new tread on old tires.
Just a bit of an intervention.
To slow down the erosion, to buff out the scuff marks. But what I read involved a lot of heavy LIFTING.
Let’s get real. I’m not as young as I used to be and a lot of HEAVY LIFTING ? Hey...I’ve got a bad back. I’ve had a frozen shoulder, a bum knee and now a naked face that needs a dumpster full of concealer.
So I made a call.
A plea for help.
For a little bit of new and improved.
A metamorphosis.
An about face...a new space that made me look a bit younger, a bit fresher...and perhaps even, a bit more like..like...
Like me.
In my yellow wellies. In the garden.
I found a friend. A similar soul. Someone to play with in the garden. To help imagine Spring in the midst of Winter.
And so, I had her do all the Heavy Lifting, while I backed away from the mirror, the sharp tools and dangerous chemicals.
Together, we held hands and did what has always worked for me, and for most of you...
We returned to the garden...opened the gate...walked right in...and sat down for awhile. For as I have told you, and I
now gladly remember, everything can be mended.
Everything old, can be new again, here in the garden.
Here, change is not only expected...
It is respected.
Happy New Year to you and Happy New Facelift for me...may your spirits always be lifted when you come in for a visit.
That and the coming of the New Year and the fact that my industrial sized tub of concealer is empty, so I accidentally dipped my hand into a sample pack of face cream that turned out to be either a mixture for stripping wallpaper or for resurfacing concrete driveways. Either way, I stand here looking in the mirror at a face I have not seen in many many years. There are many stories in the naked city, and many more on this naked face staring back at me.
Wrinkles and crinkles, lines and creases where my dimples used to be. In fact, lots of stuff that isn’t where it used to be. Sagging and bagging into the light. Droopy eyelids, age spots that once were freckles, and ah yes, the errant chin hair spiraling out of my face.
When, I think did my nose grow so large or has my exterior receded.
Never mind the jowls where my cheeks used to be or the fact that I amwearing a turtle neck to hide the turkey neck that lurks beneath.
I will not bore you nor embarrass myself with the details of the rest of my remaining body parts now waiting to be hoovered up somewhere between my knees and the floor.
Time for a joke that is not on me. Ha!
Once upon a time a fellow went on a crash starvation diet, as his New Year Resolution to be a new man. He lost almost 500 pounds in six weeks. At the end of his fast, he gazed at his new reflection in the mirror. Amazing. However, he glanced down to see a ginormous puddle of leftover skin resting on his ankles. Simple. He thought. I just need a little lift. So he gathered up and lifted all his extra skin over his head, secured it neatly with a large rubber band and cleverly covered it all up with a jaunty felt fedora. He hopped into his new sports car, a reward for his dieting success, and roared off down the road. Idling at a stoplight, he noticed the two elderly ladies idling in the next lane. Since they were staring at him with such obvious envy of his new good looks, he tipped his hat and smiled. When the light changed, the women turned to one another and spoke. The first woman said, “Nice looking man.”
The other replied, “ Yes, yes indeed, but there was something rather odd about his tie.”
And with that said, I confess that I spent a ridiculous amount of time online, reading up on minor cosmetic surgery. Nothing serious, just a bit of a lift. A touch up. A pinch or a tweak. Botox. A cheeky lift.
Chemical resurfacing. A little sandpaper dermabrasion. Some vacuuming, you know, a little bit of suction, delicate contouring, a tuck here, a patch there, new tread on old tires.
Just a bit of an intervention.
To slow down the erosion, to buff out the scuff marks. But what I read involved a lot of heavy LIFTING.
Let’s get real. I’m not as young as I used to be and a lot of HEAVY LIFTING ? Hey...I’ve got a bad back. I’ve had a frozen shoulder, a bum knee and now a naked face that needs a dumpster full of concealer.
So I made a call.
A plea for help.
For a little bit of new and improved.
A metamorphosis.
An about face...a new space that made me look a bit younger, a bit fresher...and perhaps even, a bit more like..like...
Like me.
In my yellow wellies. In the garden.
I found a friend. A similar soul. Someone to play with in the garden. To help imagine Spring in the midst of Winter.
And so, I had her do all the Heavy Lifting, while I backed away from the mirror, the sharp tools and dangerous chemicals.
Together, we held hands and did what has always worked for me, and for most of you...
We returned to the garden...opened the gate...walked right in...and sat down for awhile. For as I have told you, and I
now gladly remember, everything can be mended.
Everything old, can be new again, here in the garden.
Here, change is not only expected...
It is respected.
Happy New Year to you and Happy New Facelift for me...may your spirits always be lifted when you come in for a visit.
P.S. In your haste for closure, sometimes it’s good to leave the door slightly ajar, just in case second chances come calling.
BTW...that new friend I mentioned has a name. Willa Cline
Stop by and pay her a visit at:
WillaCline.com
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