Stayed in a hotel recently that had a lift with wall-to-wall mirrors. Mirrors, mirrors everywhere and nothing to see but me! And it wasn’t pretty. Everywhere I looked all I could see was Gerry, from every angle: front, back and sides. And top. And that’s the first thing I spotted – a bald spot on the top of my head! A spot not spottable in your face-to-face or head-to-toe mirror. And it wasn’t that small a spot; mind you it wasn’t that big a spot either and it was more to the back of my head as opposed to the top. Matter a damn really, the bottom line is – I’m going bald! Not quite a shock but an unwelcome surprise. Why the hell hadn’t anyone told me about this evolving pink spot on my scalp? My friends? Acquaintances? Siblings? Guess none of them are used to communicating with me from the back or perhaps they’re too civilised, too genteel to draw attention to it. Like hell they are, they’d tell me in jig time. They didn’t spot the bald spot just as I hadn’t. And what about my nearest and dearest, my good wife? After all behind every good man there’s a good woman so why didn’t she (when behind me, though mostly she’s ahead of me) mention it? Because she’s a good woman, I guess. I am so not enamoured with this bald spot- small bald spot – which could be the start of something big. Then again I should be so lucky; my older brother went bald from the front. And the back! And the sides! In short – he’s bald. When it comes to family heads and DNA the brother, a very bright guy, got the brains, I got the hair! For now.
And then there was the rest of me. My body. Not pretty either. Not pretty at all. Oh dear, viewing your body (mine anyway) from every conceivable angle does nothing for one’s self esteem. The belly is bulging, the bum’s protruding and the back is slightly stooped! Jesus, Mary and holy Saint Joseph! I look like an old man. And I’m not. Okay, so I’m not a young man either but I had better straighten up or I’ll look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Or his smaller, younger brother. Or smaller first cousin once removed. And it’s a rude awakening to observe your body from every conceivable angle. Emphasis on rude. And then I got to thinking - what if you have a beautiful body? Well, hey, a lift with wall-to-wall mirrors was made for you. That lift can make beautiful people feel so good; I mean the world could be falling down around you but once you hop in that lift your self-esteem is restored. Your self esteem soars. You look in those mirrors and you can honestly say: ‘I’m beautiful.’ And feel free to shout out (but not too loud) ‘Wow, what an ass I have’. Only don’t overdo it or you might have to say: ‘Wow, what an ass I am.’ And we wouldn’t want that, would we?
And here’s another thought (who’d have thought lifts are so conducive to deep, meaningful thinking?) if you are blessed with a beautiful body (with no bald spots) consider asking your loved one for a lift with wall-to-wall mirrors for Christmas. Tricky to wrap, I know, but what the hell. What’s that? You live in a bungalow! Irrelevant. This lift is not for going up and down in, it’s for going in and out of, and admiring yourself. And why not? To quote the Good Book: ‘Don’t hide your light (your beauty in this case) under a bushel.’ Rejoice in it - in a lift with wall-to-wall mirrors. Okay so you could install wall-to-wall mirrors in your bathroom but who wants toilets rolls and towels and tubes of cosmetics spoiling the view? The beautiful view! In the meantime yours truly is taking the stairs from now on.
Miracle in the city!
An Amish family visited the city for the very first time. While the mother unpacked their bags in the hotel room the father and son explored downstairs. Standing outside a lift (which they had never seen before) the shiny steel doors opened and a middle-aged, frumpish, unattractive woman stepped in. The doors closed and the lift ascended. Three minutes later, the left descended, the doors opened and a beautiful, stunning blonde stepped out. The father stared in disbelief at the lift, then turning to his son, said: ‘Joshua, go fetch your mother. Immediately.’