I’m sitting in my office listening to Eric Clapton belt out some cool sounds. Steady rain outside. Springtime trying to make its way into summer; that’s what is happening in southern Illinois. I’m drinking some wine, looking at my legs while I sport a pair of summer shorts, and evaluating my body’s transition into old age. I’m 72 years old and find myself wondering what happen to all of the hair on my legs. Damn depressing, I might add. I remember my early years when I first saw tiny strains of hair on my legs and some peach fuzz on my face. That was pretty cool. I was becoming a man and would soon enjoy the company of wild girls, a beer belly that would rival the older guys in the Louisville Pool Hall. Party time, that’s where I was headed. Well, I did have some exciting years, but not quite what I had expected.
Now back to my leg hair. No, it didn’t disappear. The hair has moved to different parts of my body. I now have an abundance of belly hair, a nose filled with bushy hair that needs daily trimming, and strains of long hairs growing out of my ears and dangling downward from my earlobes. And my eyebrows. If I didn’t trim them I would have “handle-bar eyebrows.” I assume that if I checked out the DNA of my leg hairs, they would match the hair growing out of my nose. Yes, I’m certain that it’s the same hair.
Now I’m not one to question God, but come on. What’s the point of my hair moving from one part of my body to another? I’m okay with my gray hair as long as it doesn’t turn blue. And the wrinkles come in handy. Being a writer, I believe that every wrinkle tells a story. Apparently I have lots of stories to tell.
Despite the moving hair, things are looking up. I had two back surgeries over the past year; lots of pain and depression. Now I have minor pain at times but nothing that I can’t handle. I’ve begun working out at a local fitness center, and with a little imagination, I can see the beginnings of a six pack. Never had one of those before. Since some of the hair on my legs has moved to my stomach, I would have a hairy six pack. Pretty cool. Maybe….
The wine bottle is empty and I need to take my dog for a walk.