SHALLOW

First off, I wish to thank each of you that stopped by to laugh at with me over my pratfall. You were so sweet with your good thoughts and kind words. They must have worked for I am a bit better this week. Chuckling no longer hurts but coughing or sneezing is still a no-no. Just need a bit more time to make it all the way back.

Thank you so much for your caring and support.  And oh yes, special thanks to several of you who made the cell phone suggestion. We don't have cell service here but I now take my cordless phone with me on the late night potty trips with Callie.  Simple and smart.

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Recently I was telling a friend of mine a story of how facial hair on a man can be interesting but deceptive. She said I should blog about it so here goes. This is for you Julie.

I mentioned before that we moved a lot and I went to a bunch of schools. The good thing for me is that I was always the "new girl" which held a bit of mystique for the guys, thus upping my appeal. By the time that mystique wore off, we had moved again so I spent most of my school days surrounded by that useful aura.

We moved to Sarasota Florida in the middle of my junior year where I went from a school in Ohio that had 600 kids in 12 grades to a school that had 400 in my grade alone.

I was a bit shocked my first day of school by the immenseness  but also by a strange sight. I was use to different areas of the country having different customs, but a huge percentage of the male population in that school were sporting, or were trying to sport, beards, mustaches and sideburns. This was a new wrinkle.

At first I thought there might be a large Amish community near by but that was not the case.  I quickly learned that the boys were growing facial hair in support of the DeSota Pageant.

To celebrate the sad tale of Sara DeSota, ,daughter of Hernando DeSota, the local men--and boys-- grew Spanish beards several months before the pageant. Kind of like St. Patrick's day when everyone claims to be Irish.  This time all the males adopted the old Spanish look.  Thus the school was full of facial hair.

The pubescent teen boys proudly showed off their mascara enhanced sprinkles of lip hair, wispy sideburns, and occasional chin hairs, Some actually had lush and bushy beards. Men among boys.

I was early on wooed and won by a cute guy named George who sported a very impressive full beard. George also drove a brand new 56 Chevy which increased his appeal. Yep, I was shallow enough to be swayed by the cool car and really masculine beard, so I became his girl.

We went steady for about a month but then a strange thought hit me as the annual shaving of the beards approached.  I could only see part of George's face. I had no idea what was under that luxurious beard. He could have no chin, serious scaring or even massive zits. I think I mentioned all ready that I was a shallow teen and dating an enigma was a bit scary.

As it got closer for the annual shaving of the beards, I let my fears best me and I broke up with him two weeks before the dead line just to be on the safe side. Ah, finally safe from the nightmare of the real George.

After the de-bearding, the halls were filled with unrecognizable fellows.  The first day I passed this really gorgeous guy in the halls who mumbled  "Hi Patti." I was immediately interested but couldn't shake off the feeling that while I didn't know him, he looked rather familiar. Then a guy slapped him on the back and said, "Hey George, you must feel 5 pounds lighter with that beard gone."

Sadly it dawned on me, that handsome devil was my former steady George. I kicked my shallow butt all the way to my next class.

No we didn't get back together. We had both moved on as teens rapidly do but it did start me thinking that people who stay in the shallow end, never learn to swim. From then on, I started looking for depths beyond the physical to explore. That was a good move.

Were you a shallow teen?