Wizened Up

Okay, self-esteem, it’s time to go to work. My hair is frizzing more because of gray hair, and suddenly my skin is wrinkling at the speed of light (or because of too much past light). I’m giving myself the pep talk about how wrinkles tell a story, but suddenly I don’t like the ending this story is obviously going to have.

Therefore, I have no choice but to make up a new story. Let’s see . .

  • Newborn babies are wrinkled, and we find them adorable.
  • Shar pei dogs are wrinkled, and they sell for thousands of dollars.
  • Elephants are wrinkled, and we find them majestic.
  • A wrinkle in space can change the universe.
  • A wrinkle in a crime story makes the story more interesting.

Not being a newborn or a breed of dog, I need to consider what’s to be done about these 50-year-old wrinkles.

Perhaps I will try the technique used when traveling. I hang my wrinkled suits in the bathroom and steam them for almost an hour to “press” them for the next day. I guess I could just stay in the bathroom with my suit, hanging myself over the hook on the back of the door.

I could write a book that declares the more wrinkles you have, the more successful you are. I could start the rumor that wrinkles declare the amount of success a person will have, kind of like rings on the inside of a tree. I’ll take pictures of successful, wrinkled people and post them on Facebook.

I’ll write stories about how wrinkles give you psychic power, and share biographies about a very wrinkled person who ruled the world. There are a lot of those.

That’s my plan. Before long 30-somethings will be asking plastic surgeons to add some crow’s feet and forehead creases. People will smile constantly just to ensure their wrinkles will be formed at an early age.

T-shirts will read, “Wrinkles Rock.” Keith Richards picture will be the background.

Golden Girl posters will replace the plastic look of Joan Rivers. Wrinkles will be the new face-lift.

There, I feel better already.  We need to make sure the world is wizened up.  Are you with me?