Body Snatchers

The older I get, the more I am convinced that God has a sense of humor. Our body shapes and functions seem to change as we go through the different seasons each year.

As kids in the sixties, almost all of us were skinny. Older aunts attributed it to “worms” or not drinking enough milk each day. Oh, how we begged for the day that we didn’t look like walking skeletons. Of course, the few who were on the “plus” size were eventually caught and passed. Today, we can walk by a piece of cake and gain 2 pounds.

Our bodies have been snatched by Father Time and turned every which way but loose. When did it change?

Let’s go back in time. As teenagers, our calorie burning metabolism was off the charts. We could eat 2 cheeseburgers, large fries and wash it down with a vanilla milkshake and not worry in the least about this newfound phenomenon called calories. If that weren’t enough, top it off with a banana split from the Dixie Dip. Step on the scales and the needle didn’t move. For me, I can remember that my sizes didn’t change for years. Shirt: 15.5, 33. Pants: 32X32. Jacket: 42 Long. Without divulging too much info, let’s just say that those sizes are laughable now.

I weighed 155 when I graduated from high school. I didn’t hit 185 until living in Bryant Hall Athletic dorm and eating steaks and lobster on the training table almost nightly. It has been stated over and over but on our high school football team that played for the first state championship in 1967, we had 3 players over 200 pounds with the biggest being 220 pounds. Today, the managers weigh more than that.

For men, where are the changes in addition to weight? It is simple and can be narrowed down to one word: HAIR. In certain areas, hair falls out and refuses to come back. In other areas, hair grows longer and thicker than it did when we were younger.

For me, I knew I was starting to age when I noticed my sons having a little grey in their hair and beards. It was even tougher noticing there was a little thinning in the back. It’s funny how it slips up on you. You notice more and more hair in the shower drain that came from somewhere. The hairline starts to recede, and you realize that there is a “hole” in the back of your head where hair used to be. To me, nothing is funnier than guys who go out and buy a “rug” (toupee) that looks like a couple of muskrats mating on top of their head. It’s even funnier when you see someone with their rug for the first time. It’s like it sprouted up overnight. Of course, others go the “plug” route or try something like Rogaine. Or, you can spend thousands on a baseball cap with ultraviolet rays to stimulate the sleeping follicles.

For years, there seemed to be a correlation between losing hair on your head and growing facial hair as a beard or mustache. I’m not cultured enough to know if that’s true or not.

My great-grandmother Hancock had a unique look on hair loss: “Hair that falls out and lands on your shoulders and back, sprouts there and grows.” Granny might have had a point since no teenager has shoulder or back hair. The embarrassing request happens for guys when the hairdresser has finished cutting your hair. You ask her to trim the “trifecta:” your nose, your ears and your eyebrows.

When did we start looking like Cro-Magnon man? Nose hair seems to be fertilized by Miracle-Gro that we snorted. Don’t ask your wife to trim them. For her, “Please trim my nose hairs” means grabbing them with a pair of pliers and yanking them out by the roots. Blood? No problem. It will clot. They can’t be just trimmed since they will grow back.

Next on the menu are the ears. When did we start growing hair IN our ears and ON our ears? When she gets the clippers or scissors going, every orifice in your body tightens up just in case she slips.

Lastly, comes the eyebrows. Nobody told Andy Rooney that it was OK to weed eat them every month or so. My wife, bless her heart, isn’t happy just trimming mine. The grey hairs have to be removed which means again, getting pliers or vice grips and removing the grey ones that make me look like someone in his seventies. I now own 3 sets of clippers.

Other personal body changes are hidden. It’s time to address the toenails that are thick enough to grab low hanging branches and shimmy-up a tree. The colors range from a pleasant flesh-color to a dark yellow that would blend in with kernels of Yellow Jubilee corn on the cob. There is a simple progression: the older you are, the thicker your toenails. It must have something to do with evolution. I have seen toenails that had to be trimmed with a pair of electric hedge clippers. To me, nothing is more prehistoric than a woman whose toenails look like Java woman. She is going to paint her toenails a bright red to accentuate them, even if they are thick enough to rent out as toe billboards and use them to dig for fishing worms. My Daddy kept some special pliers that doubled for skinning catfish in his bathroom. I never saw him use them, but they were there, just in case more leverage and torque were needed.

Why does gravity gradually take over our bodies? Certain body parts droop and head south. Our skin loses its elasticity and starts to look like crumpled crepe paper. There are even some special names that very few understand. How about “batwings” and “turkey necks?” I thought these were foods served at Halloween and Thanksgiving.

My approach? Every wrinkle has a story. We paid a dear price for every lump, bulge, and bald spot. These are badges of honor.

Think I will try some Miracle-Gro on my head.

It beats mating muskrats any day.