Bill's Musings

You know, sometimes I do things that I really shouldn’t. Not that they’re illegal, immoral, or in any way bad….they’re just dumb. I have, over the past four years, told you stories about myself that perhaps should have stayed hidden, buried amongst the morass of memories that are private and yet now have become public. Mostly I share these with you because I like a good laugh as much as the next guy, and although you may not all be laughing at me, or with me, I know I am, so no harm done.
And it is in the spirit of this opening monologue that I share with you yet another spine-tingling tale of stupidity and ‘ought-not-have-ness’. While shaving the other day, I got up close and personal to the mirror. And I really should not have.
The male human body, for the most part, is repugnant. Of course, there are some parts better than others, and some bodies nicer than others. To be sure, there are several males out there who we may deem ‘acceptable’ when nude, but for the most part….sorry. My point of view may be a wee bit biased, being as I have a difficult time looking at nude males, including myself, and would much prefer looking at, say, a nice conifer or perhaps a new Ford. All the same, I digress….I was looking at myself in the mirror, shaving, getting close….when I saw a hair.
Gasp.
Said hair should not have been there. It made me stare. Of course, I was bare, as was my derriere. Good Lord, I’ve become Dr. Seuss. This wasn’t just any hair. I was about to trim my moustache, and there was this long white hair. Not grey, white. It was at least ½ an inch longer than my moustache. ‘Okay, not so bad!’, you say. Well, maybe so, but this hair was protruding from my proboscis. In other words….this was a nose hair.
How did this happen? You’d think I would have noticed before, but then there’s my aversion to looking at nude guys, so there you have it. Maybe my wife would have (perhaps should have) informed me of this deformity, but alas, sadly, this did not happen. I must bring this up at the next family meeting. And so I see this extra long follicle, longer than my facial hair, defying all that is human and logical. Can you say ‘shocked’?
For 5 minutes, I stared at this affront to humanity. Just couldn’t take my eyes off it. It positively leered at me, daring me to say something. I had to break its spell. And so I named it. I called it ‘Ted’.
Ted and I obviously go back weeks, if not months. While I was oblivious to Ted’s existence, Ted was fully aware of mine. He’d seen my finger a few times of course (it was a scratch, not a pick!) He had seen many a facial tissue (notice I didn’t say Kleenex….no product placements here!). He’d been blown around, sneezed over, and, I’m afraid to admit, probably seen and ignored by more people than really was necessary.
What comes to mind is really how many people may have seen Ted, in all his glory. My customers, where I bank, where I shop, even the nurses at the hospital. Is there nobody out there that dared inform me of this horrendous ‘hair with attitude’, this ‘full follicle’, this ‘abominable white thing’ that would tickle me ever so gently every time I snorted?
Evidently not.
Well. This brings us to the time, the time where we have to part ways, Ted and I. Throughout this ordeal, through thick and thin, ol’ Ted just kept on growing, against all odds, and made a place for himself where he wasn’t welcome. Ted had to go.
And go he did. Without much of a fight, Ted, with a little help of my tweezers, parted ways with my nostril, to be washed down the drain, never to be seen again. Perhaps it has made its way to the sewer plant, or is maybe being used as a paddle for some small insect riding in an overturned nut-shell. I’d like to think he is. It would make it a touch more bearable. I already miss him, and I am now attempting to grow his twin.
Addendum: Anne has just informed me she knew of Ted’s existence, and of his twin, Todd, on my eyebrow. FML.