Tag: Men

My Thigh Gap 

.Reading time 5 minutes.

I’m not hip to most things, nor do I want to be. I think it is fairly comical to see a parent trying to stay trendy and blend in with their teenagers. That is a losing proposition. No, I’m the old fart who doesn’t get it, and is relatively unconcerned about the “it” I don’t get. My favorite sayings are quickly becoming:

“Get a haircut, hippie!”

“Take a bath!”

“Who let them out of the house in their underwear, put some clothes on!”

“Get off my lawn!”

I’ve tried to understand the world around me but it is a hopeless endeavor. Things move too fast and I’ve gotten slower.

I was privy to some young mens’ water cooler discussion lately and perked up because they were talking about the NBA draft. I’m not a huge basketball fan anymore. But just like my city, if the Hawks get good, I’ll pay attention. I didn’t know most of the players the guys mentioned and they seemed generally dissatisfied with the results. Since I couldn’t really participate, I started to leave when the conversation turned to something called a “thigh gap”. I’ve never heard of such a thing. My interest was piqued. What is this thigh gap, you ask? Evidently, this is a new standard measurement of attractiveness. Read More

Where I stand (Flip-Flops & Blue Jeans)

.Reading time 4 minutes.

Sometimes, a seemingly insignificant event shows you exactly where you stand. This happened to me Sunday as I dressed for church.

As a male in my late forties, fashion eludes me. I could lie and say that I used to be on top of the latest trends, but photographic evidence would sell me out. Even though I see the genius of old-man high-waist pants and I yearn for the day when Sansabelt makes a comeback, I keep those opinions to myself and try to blend in. That’s my wheelhouse and my fashion goal – Not Standing Out. NSO makes me feel like I can make the women in my life happy.

NSO starts with the purchase decisions. The women weren’t there for buying of the kilt, two dozen Hawaiian shirts, or impact ties and the aforementioned items are strictly verboten. I still keep them in my closet, but if I want to wear them I have to low-crawl out of the house to escape notice. (Low-crawling in a properly worn kilt can cause distinctive carpet burns.) Most of my purchases get disgusted looks and upturned noses from the daughters. Every once in a while I get raised shoulders and an ambivalent “meh” – which I interpret to mean I have struck fashion gold. I live for a “meh”. Read More