Deer Hunting from a Recliner: Reflections on Everyday Life in Northeast Wisconsin

I try not to wear shorts in public. Call it vanity, if you like, but I call it common sense. I don’t feel I should show the whole world something I don’t even care to look at myself. Too many years of factory work (standing countless hours) on concrete floors, have taken their toll. Add to that the fact that I was born with a bad hip, which means my ‘good’ leg has had to pull double duty while the ‘bad’ one just tags along for the ride. I think you get the picture. And it’s not pretty.

While I’m certainly not crazy about the way my legs look, I try to view it as the personal price I must pay to walk this earth for an extended period of time. Varicose veins, stiff joints, gray and/or thinning hair, a need for eyeglasses–they are all tolls we must pay to ‘take the ride’ we call life. Oh, there are some alternatives and ‘fixes’; a few, at least. Hair color, plastic surgery, contact lenses, they all help us look younger–at least for a while. The only thing on that list that I could afford is the hair color. I was tempted once to try it. Just once. For about five minutes. That was how long it took me to decide that I didn’t need another ‘project’ added to my list of ‘things that must be done on a regular basis’. Besides, I figure God probably knew what He was doing when He gave me this hair. And, if the gray strands seem to be taking over, I know for a fact that I’ve earned them–each and every one.