Some men, as they age, continue to have that rugged, masculine look.
That’s not me. I never was a Clint Eastwood kind of guy, and aging hasn’t helped me a bunch.
The same goes for a close friend of mine, Tony, who worked at The University of Wisconsin with me decades ago.
We decided to give it one more shot by not shaving for a week and competing to see who looked the toughest. Tony has always been a softy, getting a doctorate in comparative literature and going around spouting poetry no one understands.
The prize, a pair of used boxing gloves, is mine for the taking. Above is a photo, perhaps slightly enhanced, of my burly face this morning. It’s easy to see I can now walk into any biker bar and be one of the guys.
I’m waiting to see Tony’s photo. But I’m sure you’ll agree, I can already try on the boxing gloves.
Brevity is the soul of wit