Sunday, February 13, 2011

Wrinkles On My Knees, Seriously?

Tooling down the Highway of Life brings the expected potholes…physical changes like worsening eyesight and varicose veins…things that I generally just have to acknowledge and keep easing on down the road, as Diana Ross crooned in 1978.  Sometimes, however, little surprises come blasting from around the bend, and broadside me.  And--as long as I have this disco-thoroughfare theme going--my reaction is Aaahh. Beep. Beep. Freak out!  I was, in fact, blindsided last week, and I have since been fixated and obsessed, more than usual, on my aging body. 
The crash occurred during a routine maintenance task.  I was in the shower, shaving my legs per usual, and suddenly I lost sight of my pink Daisy razor as it traveled in the vicinity of my right knee.  Upon closer inspection, I found that it had careened into one of SEVERAL deep crevices around my knee cap. WTF?!  I have been inundated with warnings about crow’s feet, dark eye circles, laugh lines, and brow furrows, but knee wrinkles? Again, WTF?  There I was dripping, naked, vulnerable, completely ill-equipped, and yearning for revenge. My first thought was: I want to sue Somebody!  Proctor and Gamble, Johnson and Johnson…One pair of these Brothas need to pay up for failing to prepare me for these nasty creases. 

Our airways are flooded with anti-aging potions, brews, and miracle mud from the Nile. Yet, not one single infomercial targets knee wrinkles. Does Victoria Principal know about this? How about Joan Rivers or the Kardashians? 

Granted, things like the Nile mud products have effective marketing campaigns, but what are they doing for the aging patellae? And while we are on Da Nile, mud manufacturers tease you with tales of how this magic sludge kept Cleopatra youthful, beautiful, and sexy. I know this because even I have fallen victim to their hypnotic promises.  But, I believe a little historical perspective is in order!  Cleopatra committed suicide when she was ONLY 39.  Which means she had  a very small window of time to experience aging— and I doubt a prolapsed bladder, menopausal hot flashes, and friggin’ knee wrinkles were part of her experience…Nile mud or no Nile mud. Besides, a daily skin regimen was probably the last thing on her agenda, let’s see…mastered nine languages, planned and executed political seductions of Caesar and Mark Antony, saved Egypt from the Romans, ruled as Pharaoh of the Ptolemaic Dynasty for 21 years, and, oh yeah, scheduled monthly chemical peels? I thinketh not.

Undoubtedly, Cleo has been an awesome role model for women throughout the ages. Despite her faults, she was one powerful broad and when the shit hit the chariot, she was in control.  Even in choosing her own mode of death, she was Asp-iring (a little historical humor for you, dear reader…get it? Asp-iring?).  For centuries, her reason for committing suicide has remained a mystery…Was it the death of Mark Antony?  The inevitable fall of Egypt into Roman hands? The discovery of wrinkles on her knees during her morning bath?  Alas, we will never know for sure. 

(Sidebar::  Here is another interesting fact about Cleo that sealed our uteral bond:  She was very close to a eunuch named Mardian whom she befriended when she was a little girl. Mardian learned to read and write at her palace, and they remained friends throughout her life.  Yes! Cleo had the ancient version of a gay friend! I feel certain he  helped her with history-making  fashion decisions, like picking what sandals to wear when  sneaking into Caesar’s castle to seduce him.  “Low straps, girl!  They are faaaaabuuuulouss.  Show him that ankle.  Work it!”  And Mardian probably gave advice about relationships.  “Mark Antony, now he is a hottie!  Oh.  My.  God.… muscles, sweaty from battle, courageous, hmm, hmm.  And, C, I don’t know what you were thinking when you married your brother.  Girl, that was just wrong!  What was up with Caesar?  Isis knows, he was way too old!  Yeah, snap, snap, MA got it going on! )

But I wander…

What we need is The QVC Icon, Susan Lucci, to take on this sagging knee quandary.  Susan herself has fallen into Ponce de Leon’s pond, man…and not just once….that biatch has been swimming freestyle in the fountain of youth for decades!  Would it be too much to ask Erica Cain to pimp some knee cream with Retinol and Nile mud in her line of Youthful Essence®?  Again, I thinketh not!

“Age is just a number” …LIE!  “You’re as young as you feel”…LIE!  Certainly, getting older sucks, but according to Cleo, the only way to avoid getting older is to die, and, duh-huh, that sucks more. I think I will explore the cost of having the hair on my legs lasered. Then I won’t have to look at my knees as often.  Maybe I will just let the hair grow, thus creating Yeti knees to camouflage the unsightly ravines.  Choosing option two would be much cheaper, and it would create the illusion that I am a natural, granola kind of girl!  Naw…no one would buy that.  I will call Sona MedSpa in the morning for pricing…

And Mardian, who would have undoubtedly been a front row seat season ticket holder for The Wiz had he existed in the late 1970s…AD, that is,…says, “Keep your chariot between the ditches, girl!  Besides long togas are all the rage in Athens!”

A. Ballerina

No comments:

Post a Comment