I've given up on the latest skin-care treatments
Naturally, around this time of year, a lot of folks, in an effort to improve their bodies that are bloated from leftover fruitcake and sitting around watching characters die on “Downton Abbey,” have taken out gym memberships, which is a good effort. I also have followed the trend. I didn’t say I actually used the membership; that would be a radical step. I simply have taken it out in a desperate plea not to improve my body, but to improve my social image, which I am constantly striving to update.
It’s hard to work on your body when most of it is composed of replacement parts that you could easily buy at a home improvement center. At this point in my life, I am 90 percent titanium. Any more metal and I would have to file a separate tax return identifying the signature as belonging to the owner of Chop Shop.
Honestly, I can’t even drive by an airport without setting off an alarm that calls for a full evacuation of all terminals. Planes are grounded instantaneously as that much metal interferes with flight patterns. And people have been known to leave their baggage and flee outside to random fields, no doubt drawn by the uranium grid.
So at my age, I try to focus on things I can control, like frequent flyer miles, and more importantly, my skin. Skin is a big deal. This is especially true when it turns the texture of a crocodile handbag and has the consistency of a set of sheer curtains.
Unfortunately, that describes a lot of people if they are careless with their attention to this thing that covers their whole body. And you don’t have to be a sun worshiper to get this end result.
A combination of winter climate, dry air, genetics and spending hours as a youth covered in baby oil, with a large aluminum reflecting board on top of a building for eight hours a day, may cause this “aha” moment.
The stores are full of all kinds of creams and lotions to prevent presenting the image of a human saddlebag. There is nothing like that purple hue to turn people off, unless they are wearing it themselves. In that case, you may as well pack it in, buy the white shoes and white belt and head for a gated community in Florida.
In the winter, you can get away with covering up your skin with scarves, gloves and masks.
This is advised because you don’t want people to start calling the exotic animal hot line to report a glimpse of a strange animal, probably along the lines of Bigfoot. And this is just if you have to take your coat off, say at a luncheon in your church social hall.
Anyway, in an effort to appear knowledgeable to my readers, which has zero chance of happening, I’ve been reading up on the latest treatments. Of course it goes without saying that prevention is the key here. In other words, always carry a bucket around with you to catch all the skin that flakes off onto the floor. You never want to leave a trail.
But the big item recommended is any kind of material that will keep your skin lubricated, like olive oil, or in a pinch, something that takes rust off of a car engine. You probably could find a product that is just as effective at a place like Jiffy Lube.
The problem here is that you are going to need enough lubricant for your skin to fill an indoor dome used by a professional football team. I would recommend having a tank submerged in your yard, so that it just pumps easily into your house through the sink.
On the other hand, you could always wait until the spring thaw and blame it on global warming.