Vanity insanity

So from a middle-aged man who looks in a mirror and sees a 16-year-old kid, the statement I’m about to make may seem unbelievable. I like to go “nude” in public.

Wait a minute; it’s not what you think.  Maybe nude isn’t the best word describing what I mean.

What I’m talking about is, besides soap and shampoo and sometimes the shampoo is a bar of soap, there’s nothing I use when preparing to walk the beauty pageant ramp in my goings about the world.  

I’m not “clothed” with cosmetics, fragrances or toiletries used by the vanity elite.

I don’t use hair gel on my hair nor hairspray and its color is the real deal.  Despite constantly-new white and gray hair and whiskers overtaking my former youthful colors, much like crabgrass overtaking a lush green lawn; I have no immediate plans of doing something about it with the assistance of hair coloring products. 

I don’t put moisturizing lotion on my face although my wife constantly tells me I should.  So what if one day my skin looks like a Nevada lizard having lived a long and rough life in the desert elements and blazing hot sun.  Not everyone can be a pretty boy; it’s too much work!

Some might wonder why I take so much pleasure being rough around the edges.  Others might suggest my behavior is a sign of someone who is depressed.  And still others might just sum it up by calling me lazy.  

In a moment of honesty, I’ll side with the latter. 

I’ve always not given a crap about this or that and believe it’s because of a rebel gene with which I was born.  I struggle with all that is identified with mainstream and always have had issues with the pretty boys of the world.    

What’s this all about I ask in a moment of self psychoanalysis?  A quick “I dunno” is my honest reply.   

I’d have to hire a psychologist to figure it out and I’ll be darn if I’m going to spend that kind of money on me.  Better to remains nuts and simple I tell myself.

So I’ll continue going about this vanity-preference world being one of many grungy middle-aged men, albeit a clean one.  I’ll continue my daily shower and shampoo, brush my teeth and put deodorant on to make the world a more pleasant place.  

But besides that, the grunge stays until further notice!

I’ll let the pretty boys do their work while I continue comfortable being like an old raggedy rawhide looking cowboy or villain; you know, like an odd-ball character appearing in an old black and white cowboy or gangster television movie from the 1940’s or 1950’s.

It works for me and, besides, I seldom get asked for spare change from the panhandlers.

And it keeps me sane by keeping me on the safe fringes of a crazy world known for its vanity insanity.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum