A Picture is Worth a Thousand Wrinkles

Why is it when you spend time with an older person (the kind with graying hair that always leaves their turn signal blinker on for mile after mile when they are not turning) they always get around to showing you photographs? Usually it is a picture of their grandchildren. They carry them with pride right next to their preparation H. If that isn't love I don't know what is! They are usually good looking youngsters too. However, whenever you are shown the grandparent's own portrait from "back in the day" they always look equally gorgeous! I'm not kidding. Folks in the 1930's, 40's, and 50's have stellar snapshots of themselves. It was perhaps the heyday of portrait photography. Most look professionally placed and have the appearance of a model posing for a magazine cover.

My high school graduation picture doesn't look anything like me either so that's gonna be my benchmark when I'm old and wrinkly! Their head is tilted just so and they have a smile on their face. Their skin is a creamy white and they are always pleasant upon the eye. You look at their picture then you look at them standing there with you in the present moment. You look again at the picture and back to them once more. If you squint just right you catch the resemblance to the beauty in the photo.

What happened? Time, the avenger of all that is skin deep, is having a slow yet equally amusing laugh at our expense. We, the culture that worships wrinkle free, smooth skin, single chinned, firm breasted, muscle toned, hard bodies are fighting a losing battle. It's similar to climbing a hill of sand. The longer we struggle toward the heights of beauty the more the foundation under our feet ebbs away. If only those old fogies taught us that sometimes you peak right at the beginning then maybe we could handle aging more gracefully. I guess they weren't warned either so they probably secretly enjoy watching our slow motion battle to stay pretty and chuckle to themselves.

Women especially have been targeted to fight the good fight that they are destined to lose. If you are not 18 years old with a tight face and butt to go with it then you've got a problem. As a woman you become old while a man who has considerable mileage on him can be viewed as "a catch" long past his prime. Being self-delusional, rationalizing shell of oneself, helps keep the illusion alive.

I have never seen one of those older people's youth photos that were an ugly one. C'mon! With all of the goofy looking young adults running around our streets the ugly gene must go back generations! The term ugly gene is the technological term for those in the field of human genome study. It's easier to say than "ewe doggie did ya see that ugliosis thrombosis case in the waiting room?"

Why is there no pictorial evidence to back up the logic of this "they weren't all beautiful once" theory? Is it that photographers didn't take pictures of homely people or something? It is nearly as disturbing to check out the obituary page of metropolitan newspapers and see the dearly departed 110 year old with a picture from when they were 35 standing next to Herbert Hoover (and of course they are good looking). Sure when we get over 40 we begin the slide into the hideous and gruesome category of eye pain inflictor. Somewhere after the 50- 60-year range we begin to look like our ravaged beauty should be gauged by something akin to a Richter scale.

Perhaps it is a matter of perspective. If you had stood next to the older person when the picture was initially taken you would recognize a lot more of that beauty that is still on their face. Since you only know them as an older person it is more of a shock to your mind to fathom that they could have ever looked as good as you think you do! Boy you'll have a surprise when the Choo- choo train of time runs over your illusions.

Then again this is the age of plastic surgery, face-lifts, tummy tucks, body lift's and fountain of youth beauty supplies. Perhaps with a little dab of beauty cream and the right doctor you will be able to regress into a second childhood of sorts. Just make sure you look good doing it and turn off that damn turn signal!

Contributed by:Giosue' Santarelli