Isn’t love grand? I remember dating my wife back in the days
when I still took the time to hide my character flaws. Yes, I barely belched back
then and even took the time to apply product to my hair. I was clean-shaven and
Then came marriage, the house, dramatic teenagers ruling the
roost and the dreaded comb-over, which we all knew was just a matter of time.
My clean-shaven face turned into a well-manicured goatee, which slowly slid
down the slippery slope of laziness to a full beard.
My belly eventually succumbed to our planet’s gravitational
pull—no fault of my own, and my stomach felt freer to release it’s air reserve more
frequently and at the most inappropriate of times.
In short, I became middle-aged, turning my wife’s dream of
marrying a knight in shinning armor riding his white (multi-cultural) horse into the
reality of living with a slob driving an SUV to Super Target.
While I do maintain a modest but professional wardrobe consisting
mainly of Nike and Under Armour apparel, I most often let go at home and dress
in my most comfortable clothing, some of which can be traced back to my college
Granted, this apparel works best for such activities as
mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters and watching hours of cable TV, but
unfortunately my garb occasionally slips past the realm of my home and intrudes
into the highly refined nature of the outside world.
Continued In Part 2 . . .