I simply love my new/old step stool chair in my kitchen, it’s so retro… just like my little kitchen television that only receives local channels. Most mornings you will find me perched on the stool and pulled up to the kitchen counter, enjoying my coffee, the background buzz of the television, and the full six minutes of entertainment and education the now miniscule St. Louis paper provides. Unfortunately, on the weekends, and especially on Sunday mornings, there is a distinct dearth of anything interesting on local T.V., unless you want to be proselytized, listen to sportscasters discuss the possibility of a new stadium, or watch some frankly disturbing children’s programs in the style of the late H.R. Puffinstuff.
Sometimes the best choice is an infomercial. I have learned so much about weird kitchen appliances, workout machines and shapewear! A recent favorite addresses a problem that often keeps me awake at night… crepey skin (their spelling).
Evidently there are places on our bodies that are “age give-away” zones, filled with cracked, wrinkly, crinkly dry skin. My age give-away zones? I call them grown children. It’s not enough that women are encouraged to never step outside without war paint, starve, force ourselves into compression undergarments that make us feel like a sausage bursting forth from a too-tight casing, and get injections of poison to freeze our faces into permanent looks of mild surprise. Now there is yet another sign of aging that our aging bodies must forestall, in the form of crepey skin. I, for one, am angst ridden.
First I have to wonder how many outtakes were filmed before the announcer could successfully say things like “repairs even the crepey-est looking skin” without cracking up. Then I ponder what acting school produced the woman who was moved to tears when her new, debatably non-crepey skin was revealed after a slathering of the miracle cream. Also, where do they find the audience members, and how much are they paid to clap and get extremely excited on cue? I think I might want that job.
Honestly, I wish I had so few real life problems that I could spend time pondering the negative consequences of crepey skin. Instead, I think I will just be thankful I am lucky to have lived long enough to achieve it.