I admit it. The photograph on my business card was taken in 1995. I got away with it for awhile. Now I see people squinting at the picture and peering at me to confirm that we are the same person.
I held an open house one Sunday. A younger man came in. He kept looking around and sneaking glances at me. After about ten minutes of this I realized he was not there to buy real estate, but to meet the lady whose picture is on the card and in my ads. I smiled at him, pointed to the photo on my card and said, “I’m her mother.”
We go to great lengths to improve our appearance. Today everyone wants to look and be younger than we are! I was in a women’s book club. The subject of facelifts came up. I said “If I could afford it, I’d get one.”
They all exclaimed, “We want to be appreciated for our brains.”
I answered, “Yes, and we all dye our hair too. A facelift is just another procedure in the Mirror, Mirror on the wall fantasy.”
My sister is staying with me for a couple of weeks while she looks for a job in the bay area.
She lives in North Carolina, can’t find her line of work there, and is a California girl at heart.
She says, “The people interviewing me are young enough to be my children. Who’s going
to hire an old lady?”
“Experienced, mature, not old,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles. “Why don’t you get a new photo?”
“Gravity.” I respond. “Everything droops. I want people to think I’m perky and energetic.”
“What about when you show up?” she asks.
“Hopefully I win them over with my brilliance.” I drawl. “Look, doesn’t this look better?” I face her and pull my cheek skin back toward my ears.
“You’ve got a point,” she says. “What’s the name of that plastic surgeon? Maybe we can get a Group-On thing going.”
I must update my photo in the near future; truth in advertising. I don’t want people friending me on Facebook because they want to date me. I want them to buy a house! On the other hand, I want them to to call me. I think to myself, “buy more lotto tickets.” In the meantime, that old photo is cheaper than a face lift.