Friday, January 23, 2015

Blog Fog

Every year, right about this time, I seem to encounter a blog fog.

Just a hazy period where good ideas are hard to come by, and the ones that do appear seem to be lost behind a wall of fluffy gauze.

They’re out there, but I just can’t seem to get to them…nor do I feel particularly motivated to try.

Not sure why this happens. I guess my mind—you know, the one with a mind of its own—just wants a rest from all this absurdity I force upon it, day in and day out.

Oh sure, I could tell you all about my recent discovery…the one about how my butt shelf is shrinking.
You know, the small part at the top of my butt that my pants have, for most of my life, secured themselves over so they don’t constantly slip down to expose my plumber’s crack to the world.

For years and years my jeans fit snug and secure—sometimes too snug and secure—around my waist, but now I find more and more I’m constantly grabbing them from the back and hitching them back in place.

My first thought was that Levi’s was making their waist bands a bit more pliable to allow for the expanding national girth of the Baby Boom generation, without hurting their feelings. They’ve already taken liberties with sizing, so why not the stretchabilty factor.  How else would you explain a 35 inch waist fitting semi-comfortably into a 33 inch pair of 505’s?

But, no…soon I started experiencing the same phenomena in all kinds of below the waist garments. Sweatpants, pajamas, bathing suits…even my old faithful, tightly whities…which yes, I do still wear, and yes, I’m proud to share.

So there….

Everything slipping down my backside.

What up wit dat?

See, that’s me talking cool—italics and all—to diminish the “aging” aspect of all of this and to show I’m still relevant, with or without my collection of Cowsills memorabilia.

I finally mentioned this to Z, healthcare professional that she is, to see if there was some sort of technical, medical phenomena she was aware of that might explain all of this.

Without even hesitating she said, “Yes, men—bastards that they are—don’t usually store fat in their buttocks and as they get older, and muscle tone begins to slacken, their inconsiderate, mocking butt cheeks, start to flatten out even more, if they even had any substance to them in the first place, which leads to a diminished "butt shelf" and ‘trouser droop’.”

“Trouser Droop…is that an actual, clinical term?”

“Yes…although I just made it up…along with butt crack syndrome and butt shelf.”

“I’m losing my butt shelf…?”

“It happens to the best….”

“So how does one correct this awful malady?”

“Start wearing that belt I bought for you two Christmas’ ago that you drape over the clothes rack. Do you think I just decided to buy you a belt for no reason?”

“You were aware of this happening…why didn’t you say something, sooner?”

“Because I know how fragile you are…” 

“I don’t like belts…they’re so—”

 “Tight around the waist?”


“And that’s the belts fault, huh?  So then tie a piece of rope around you, or start wearing suspenders…”

And to this I actually gasped.  Charlie Weaver syndrome!  It’s finally happening…I’m turning into Charlie Weaver...the lovable, old 1950's TV personality and venerable Hollywood Square (not sure which one)!”

At which point, the medical part of our conversation concluded and Z poured herself a large glass of wine…something that occurs quite frequently after we converse for a while.

Not sure why….

And now you might better understand why it is that some of these ideas—and there are several more stories regarding other body part transformations lurking out there—should be left alone...right where they are, out there, lost in the fog.

In the meantime, while my murky presence may become a bit more irregular during this obscured period, check back in from time to time as, despite the fog, I’m sure some other less revealing ideas will make themselves known.

And if you happen to be walking, out and about, and notice a man of a certain age, bend to tie his shoes…it’s probably best if you avert your eyes and continue walking in a straight line towards your destination.

Trust me…you’ll thank me later….



  1. In keeping with the laws of conservation of matter, I seem to have picked up the slack on your butt shelf, so to speak.....

    1. Really...? I've never seen you except from the shoulders up, so I couldn't say. But if you did could you send a little bit back my way....

  2. Considering the time of year which is lacking in most things the butt of your ideas worked out well. I just discovered that if one wishes to use the pool at our local gym one must wear a hat. Apparently, one's head is unhygienic. There has to be a rhyme in there somewhere.

    1. Luckily you have quite the assortment when it comes to hats. They'll never see that coming!

  3. Blame the manufacturers because they have moved the waistband down to mid hip. This is to make you look really, really cool, like a young Clint Eastwood. So if you have a flat derriere, your jeans are going to slide south toward your knees. If you are in the supermarket, try to find a display that you can hide behind so that you can hitch up your jeans. That's what I always do.

    1. Good tip...I knew I could count on you! Thanks for adding the "young" to the Clint reference....

  4. start squatting, brian... build up that butt! ;0)

    1. Then the knees will go...just a vicious circle....

    2. you're right... stay small, pony boy


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