The above picture is me in my 1969 "going-to-prom" best. My mother paid for that Kardashian/Jersey Shore hair style. It lasted through 3 dance numbers and fell apart like the souffle that it appears to be. I am just posting it to announce my new love. Comedy.
The dress was beautiful. It featured a gathered skirt that just barely touched the floor and sweet, puffy, 'poet' sleeves with see through dotted Swiss fabric. There was gobs of lace. I could have gone from the prom to my wedding and never missed a beat.
Now, on to comedy. After I wrote that piece on Political Pon Farr (weeks ago), I felt free. It was my coming out party. In that entry, I may have revealed my last, personal secret - except for the stuff that you'll never get out of me! NEVER! I've come to realize that I've spent this portion of my life on planet Earth in my "Fear Cave." Not wanting to step on any toes or raise anyone's blood pressure. Well, my parents are in heaven now, so who cares? Now that I am out of the cave and the sun is blinding my eyes, I am on the look out for funny things.
And my timing couldn't be better. I am now entering a hilarious time in my life. My hair is getting thinner so parts of my scalp peak through.That's comedy tonight! And the hair that hangs from my head is brittle and breaks at the sound of a bird chirping.
I've never had great teeth. I once had a dentist ask me if I smoke. I told him "no", since I in fact do not smoke. So he asked if I drink coffee. Well, me and coffee are like that (&) so he suggested that I use a straw to drink coffee. I can tell you that when I am dead and gone and my mouth full of teeth are slowly becoming a puddle of molecular goo in the Earth, it won't matter a hill of beans if they are pearly white or cracked mocha - I'm not using a straw to drink coffee.
(Excuse me for the break, I had to go get a cup of coffee).
I think the funniest thing that is happening now in my hilarious life is my walking. I get out of a car and give myself a second to let the hip bone re lock into my pelvis. I take a step just to see if all joints are engaged. The other day, it occurred to me that maybe as we get older we should disguise the re locking joints by doing the cool dude strut, similar to the one that Kramer did on Seinfeld when he walked down the street wearing the Joseph's Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat - dreamcoat. I was explaining this theory to my daughter in law and she laughed out loud. She later confessed that she thought when I said cool dude strut, that I was talking about the pants on the ground crowd who hold onto the front of their pants while the back of their pants let it all hang out. When I consider the acid reflux that occasionally grips my colon, that might not be a bad idea.
Me, holding white gloves - with a long sleeved dress, ready for the
prom. We were a family of nine kids, so the door got a little wear.
Note the square of silence around my head.
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