The world is crazier than most people know. But I know. I was a clinical social worker for forty years. I am a witness. I retired from social work to write about the sad, the mad, and the savage; with whom I have spent most of my life. I have decided to translate these stories into fiction, because, as a co-worker once said, "You couldn't make this sh*t up. No one would believe you."

Wednesday, July 21, 2010


I feel bad about my thighs.

I watched The Closer and saw Keira Knightly, who is fifty-something, dancing around on her bed in her underwear, and man does she have great thighs. If I danced around on my bed, my thighs’ dimples would make little rainbow reflections on the walls.

And my knees are wrinkled. I remember the days when we wore skirts so short our underpants were embarrassed, and my knees carried themselves with pride. Not a wrinkle, not a lump, those glamorous gams took to the street with style. I was a flower child extraordinaire, hair and skirt met somewhere around my ass and I was hot, baby, I was smokin’. Now my game…is lame.

I hate summer: when it’s too hot to wear stockings and cover up the…uh…imperfections. I have to go barelegged like the twenty something’s and the Keira Knightlys. Crap! I slather my legs with fake bake and pray to hide the scar I got from chopping wood last winter in gym shorts (don’t ask!). But the thighs….let’s just say the skirt is long enough to hide the offenders.

But…there comes the problem of shorts. The dilemma: to wear shorts and be infinitely more comfortable on the searing hot days of the southwest, or to wear jeans and suffer the embarrassment of sweating from every pore publicly?

I work those thighs like a couple of draft horses at haying time. Run walk jump squat 220 pounds no crap lunge skip dance you dogs, dance. I have to admit the muscles underneath are pretty well toned. But the skin – ah, there’s the rub. Skin, I have discovered, has a mind of it’s own once you hit fifty. As I am sixty four, my skin has emancipated itself and is now living a separate life, romancing gravity right under my nose.

I have read about the various procedures they have nowadays to give nature a helping hand, using lasers, rollers, vacuums and surgery. They all sound wonderful, except for the price. I suppose I could raid my puny retirement fund, but then I would have the smoothest thighs in the soup kitchen and who would notice?

Alas, I wonder if Keira Knightly could look as good on my budget as I could on hers?

1 comment:

  1. Well now, Thank God we are more than our thighs! It gives us a reason to dance more!
    Thanks for making me laugh