Uplifted

I am taking a break from the pall following the national election to consider something more uplifting.

I have begun to notice a proliferation of storefronts, signs, and electronic billboards in my urban neighborhood.  It would seem that day spas and cosmetic treatment clinics are more popular now than the fast food chain Wendy’s, and popping up faster than my age spots. 

When I was young I never really believed that the changes of aging would happen to me, and so I took a definite stand on face lifts—I would never get one.  Since the early days of face lifts, a long menu of other cosmetic treatments have steadily appeared even as my firm youth has turned to Jell-O. No longer as committed to accepting my flaccid fate, I study the menus that promise to change my appearance, smooth out my wrinkles, reshape my features, lift my sagging skin, make me more comfortable with my appearance, and boost my self-esteem.  Yes!  Give me some of that Kool-Aid.

The fast food list consists of Botox injections, chemical peels, hair removal, laser skin resurfacing, and non-surgical fat reduction. The ads promise to get me “in and out.”  The gourmet cuisine which takes more time to prepare and involves slicing and dicing includes liposuction, breast augmentation, eyelid surgery, tummy tucks, and ​breast lifts. It sounds a little harsh if not downright scary.  An image comes to my mind of road workers resurfacing the highway with deafening heavy equipment.  Ouch!

Since I try to avoid unnecessary medical interventions and pain, in general, I ask myself, what got me into this flabby, furry state? Maybe if I change my behavior, I can spare myself additional lines, wrinkles, and pesky chin hairs and save a few bucks.  So I study the ingredients: too much frowning, squinting, and raising my eyebrows.  Even laughter is a culprit.  According to the literature, all of these facial expressions have furrowed and folded my skin giving me frown lines, laugh lines, and crow’s feet.  My skin is dull from cellular changes, reduced collagen, and free radicals. 

What to do?  My jeans did fit better before my butt cheeks began to slap the backs of my knees, and my shoes did fit better before my thighs drifted downward into my socks.  Perhaps enormous lips and three inch eyelashes would distract from these lower regions and boost my glamour profile.

Sleep has been hard to come by this week, a week that added greatly to my sagging and dulling, furrowing and eyebrow raising.  I don’t think I want to lose too much more sleep over this decision.  In the end, I have to consider the times in which I am living.  A furrowed brow and free radicals may be my only form of resistance.  Let my dull, hairy chin sag!  Someday, I will laugh again, too.