I know that there are many very serious questions in this world that beg for answers, but they are way beyond my control and I won’t even try to address them.
On the other hand, I can talk about something more personal.
I wonder why?
Take Tom Cruise for instance. I have seen the lad on TV quite a few times and I think that he has a great smile, but the persistent stubble on his chin is a little bit disconcerting.
Is he out of razor blades? Is he allergic to shaving cream? Does he have a religious thing about shaving? Is there something in Scientology that forbids him to trim the bush?
Very puzzling indeed.
I don’t shave every day, but if I were invited to appear on television to share some thoughts with my fans, I’d make a little effort to mow the lawn.
But I could have it wrong. I might be so hopelessly out of touch that I am unaware that the clean look is out and the stubble is in.
You’ll have to forgive me; I appear so infrequently on television that I don’t remember what the proper etiquette is.
And I am not good looking… not in the usual sense anyway.
I am ruggedly handsome but I am not a show stopping kind of guy. And I wouldn’t want to be.
Being handsome is a tiresome thing, and it is also fleeting.
I am often shocked when I see older show-biz personalities on TV talk shows. Where are the young, dashing heroes of my youth? Could it be that this tired old geezer was the swashbuckling, girl-getting hero of yesteryear?
Could it be that this fat, eerie looking woman was the sex bombshell of the fifties?
Good Lord!
I am satisfied to be insignificant looking. Nobody is ever going to question my stubble, query me about my love life or about the skeletons in my closet.
Thank you Lord for making me so trivial looking.
But I still would like to know why the scruffy look is in and why the girls go for it.
So Tom, if you have a few minutes to spare, please drop me a line and give me the scoop.
And let’s do lunch, OK?
Alain