29 August 2004
As a person of only-slightly-peccable male credentials, I spend probably too much time in the contemplation of the mystery that is woman, and the following is excerpted from yesterday's not-entirely-random thoughts.
Mary Sauer is an American pole-vaulter; she appeared unclothed in the September Playboy "Women of the Olympics" pictorial. I of course had checked out the fine print, and had found this little gem:
I'm afraid of heights. But when I pole-vault I can't tell how high in the air I am. I'll go driving down the freeway and see an overpass sign that reads CLEARANCE 14 FEET, 10 INCHES, and I think, Wow, I've jumped over that.
Yesterday I was westbound on the Northwest Distressway, approaching May, and there's the overpass, just about that height, and I thought, "Wow, she's jumped over that." Which is probably not quite accurate she's cleared that height, yes, but I don't think she'd have made it across all four lanes and the guardrail. Still, for me anyway, it's an image as indelible as the photo that starts on page 132.
I had concluded, after too many fashion magazines, that while there actually are women this tall and that thin, it's the purely artificial photographic environment which creates the illusion that they're actually somehow attractive, and besides, they never, ever smile.
Two of them were in front of me in the checkout lane yesterday. Under the cold, hard, fluorescent lights of the workaday world, these two youngsters, dressed just this side of casual flirty, were, um, downright gorgeous. And worse, they were smiling. Apparently they were stocking up on party essentials, and Mom, who was busy writing the check, seemed to be in a good mood, considering she had just spent $300 and odd. (Mom, a little shorter and a little less angular, was pretty hot herself, but we won't go there. At least, I won't.)
Finally, an exhibit on the subject of why I've got it bad for Aisha Tyler, from her book Swerve: Reckless Observations of a Postmodern Girl, on why doing charity work makes you more interesting:
The next time you're out with a bunch of people and they're all babbling on about how their new SUV came with six cup holders instead of the standard factory-issue four, or how they're pissed because they couldn't find a pair of Super Humanity Force Five Superlow Cut Frayed Über-Denim jeans, you can talk about how you spent a weekend building a house for a low-income family and learned how to use a compound mitre saw. In metric. They will be cowed. But they will also be fascinated. Girls will think you've got balls, and boys will imagine you with a hammer in your hand, wearing nothing but a utility belt. Everybody wins.
Did I mention indelible images?Posted at 9:14 AM to Table for One
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Charles at dustbury writes about women: I had concluded, after too many fashion magazines, that while there actually are women this tall and that thin, it's the purely artificial photographic environment which creates the illusion that they're act......[read more]