If you have got it, flaunt it…?

“To live happy, live hidden” Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian (1788)

The other day I came across a lightly clad young woman. She was wearing a light tank top showing her arms and her midriff, and a pair of sweatpants showcasing her booty.
She looked good, but it was a cold blustery day and her outfit seemed oddly inadequate for the prevailing weather conditions.
I remember thinking, even if my physique was up to par, would I risk pneumonia for the sake of vanity?

IMG_8542But it seems that people who have got it (it being anything desirable) cannot resist the urge of flaunting it, regardless of the circumstances.
Look at me they implore… Look at my butt… look at my boobs… look at my shoes, muscles, gold chains… look at my car… look at me for crying out loud… I beg you.
And the social media are chockfull of selfie queens promoting their wares
It is rather pathetic.

I wonder,  if I had it (I am not saying that I don’t),  would I flaunt it.
Nah… I don’t think so… It is not in my nature.
I treasure anonymity too much to risk attracting undue attention. I enjoy the immense privilege of going anywhere unnoticed and I intend to keep it that way.

For there is always a price to pay for being the center of attention.
Someday you will have to pay the piper.

Once fame is achieved, it can become as poisonous as the Shirt of Nessus
The once highly prized celebrity status can become toxic and lead to many nasty confrontations with the very same people who catapulted them to fame.

When caught in an unfavorable light, many celebrities claim an invasion of privacy.
But when you become a public figure, you relinquish the cloak of anonymity.

Fame is like a Trojan horse hauled into the walls of your privacy. It is often the prelude of a rapid downfall.

Beware of what you are asking for, you might get it.
And fate is playing for keeps.

As for me, if you see me anywhere wearing dark shades, don’t even ask. I don’t sign autographs or give interviews!

Alain

 

Suspended animation

Lately I have been toying with the idea of a European vacation, but what makes me hesitate is the unsavory prospect of spending twelve hours cooped in the confines of a jetliner.

I enjoyed flying when the hostesses were perky (coffee, tea or me?), the food decent and the legroom adequate. But with these criteria long gone, I now loathe taking to the air.
The idea of being stacked like a bunch of smoked oysters in a tin can is totally abhorrent to me.

Paradoxically, while planes are getting bigger and more fuel-efficient, the cost of flying is increasing and the breathing space allocated to each passenger is shrinking. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Something seems to be rotten in the state of Denmark!

FirstClassSuite1If at least I could fly in a prone position I would not mind that much, but this a privilege that only the ultra-rich, elected officials (or flesh-baring performers) can afford.
Another depressing sign of rising inequality.

A normal human being, if not asleep, needs to remain in motion. Kids instinctively know that and prove it by constantly carrying on.
Having to remain seated for twelve hours is cruel and unusual punishment and ought to be proscribed by law.
I would like to see activists becoming interested in that idea.

If unable to lie down, passengers ought to have the option of exercising. A unidirectional running track around the plane would be a very innovative idea that farsighted airline executives ought to consider. Every hour, according to a predetermined order, passengers would be allowed to stroll around the plane and restore some blood circulation to their lower limbs.

But sadly enough, it looks like airline executives are only motivated by profit and show very little inclination to alleviate the misery of their cash cows.
I would like to introduce a motion stating that each time an airline executive travels, he should be compelled to fly coach to experience the punishment inflicted upon casual travelers.
Maybe then, and only then, is something going to be done about the inhumanity of air transportation.

In the meantime, I am mulling over the idea of starting a drive to collect enough money to fly at least once in the style of the rich and infamous.

After all these years flying steerage, I think that I deserve a little pampering.

Alain

Don’t piss off a Frog:

 

Master of my Domain

When I was a bachelor, I was the uncontested Master of my Domain.
Running my household was a cinch.
I knew where every grain of rice and every speck of dust were and it was easy for me to formulate a plan of action… if I so desired.

Then I met a woman who became my wife and everything changed.
She slyly and progressively took over all my manly duties
Out of the goodness of my heart, I allowed her to cook, do the laundry, clean the house, take the garbage out, etc.
Then before I knew it, she was presiding over my manor.

To reassure me about the purity of her intentions, she would frequently ply me with tea and piroshki and frankly I didn’t see a thing coming.
Sad to say, I became totally dependent of her good will.

Then, not too long ago, under the pretense of visiting a cousin in Washington D.C. (but most probably to discuss the Ukrainian situation with Barack) she left me alone for an entire week.

It then became horrifying clear what she had accomplished.
I couldn’t find the sugar, didn’t know how to use the oven and totally forgot how to do the laundry.
I was helpless. Gasp!

As a matter of fact, the situation got so bad that a few days after her departure I started to miss her.

Could that woman, like Catherine the Great of Russia, be planning to depose me and take over my kingdom and my blog?
I would not put it past her.

I have to stop this new Russification of Crimea. I need to reassert my manhood and my independence.
Tomorrow I’ll do the dishes, mop the floor and dust some furniture…

Thinking of it, it might be a tad too ambitious… I’ll just start with the furniture…

Alain

You will have to forgive my dithering, but everybody knows how difficult it is to quit when you are prey to a dreadful but alas pleasing addiction.
Curse that woman!