So I cannot deny it any longer. For months, I have been trying to convince myself it’s just bad lighting or my eyes playing tricks but the truth refuses to be ignored. I now have two choices, accept it or get rid of all reflective surfaces in the world.

What calamity has precipitated such an extreme reaction? It’s the dreaded . . . turkey neck! For those of you who haven’t yet lost your innocence, it’s when the skin under your chin gets saggy making you look like, you guessed it, a turkey. This latest atrocity is just one in a long line of degrading and mortifying tortures Mother Nature inflicts on her aging children. Waning eyesight, insomnia, constipation and incontinence (really!?!), low energy, aches, pains and a whole host of other horrors that I will not describe as I don’t want the young ‘uns to run screaming into the night.

I can deal with the “fine lines”― aka wrinkles― around my eyes and on my forehead. Bangs and glasses hide those reasonable well. I can even deal with the blotches and lines radiating outward on my chest (damn that SPF 0 in baby oil) as most shirts cover those as well. But this turkey neck is the last straw. I refuse to wear turtlenecks (again with the animal neck comparison) all year round and I don’t care what any beauty product promises, no cream in a jar will miraculously tighten and firm up anything!

I did the only thing I could. I googled turkey neck and presto― 12,500,000 results in .28 seconds. As I perused the options one thing became abundantly and tragically clear. There really is no way to spot target this area and even though there are plenty of sites guaranteeing results with just a few minutes of chin tightening exercises, I had to come to the soul crushing realization that they are empty, worthless promises. The clincher, Oprah.com, after some allegory about hemming skirts, came right out with the unvarnished truth― only a visit to the tailor (i.e. that’s code for surgeon if you’re having trouble following) will cure this affliction.

Until about five minutes ago, I was vehemently and morally opposed to going under the knife to extend youthful looks but that was before my neck started flapping in the breeze. Unfortunately, I am not independently wealthy, or dependently for that matter, and I don’t have the fundage to pursue this option and to top things off, no insurance company in the universe will cover this necessary and life affirming procedure and will, in fact, laugh you right off the phone if you attempt to sway them with tears, threats and/or bribes.

I guess I will just have to take solace in the parting advice from Oprah’s guru on the subject and I quote: “Your magnificent eyes and delicious smile may render your neck way less noticeable than you think.”

Yeah right, try telling that to the damn mirror . . .


2 thoughts on “MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL . . .

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