One Even Had The Nerve To Mention My Unshaved Legs. Brute.

At some point in the last century, it was decided that in order for a man to be sexy, he has to completely lack body hair. I don't who the originator of this concept was, although one is forced to suspiciously eye the major razor manufacturers. Either way, it has become the norm that magazine ads, romance novel covers, and the walls of mall stores I refuse to enter on principal are adorned with sullen, half-naked men who seem to have skipped the part of puberty that gave the rest of us body hair.



This is bothersome to me, as I actually went all the way through puberty, and thus come equipped with said body hair. While I have no issues with shaving my face, the idea of taking a razor to the rest of my person just seems wrong, not to mention time consuming. I'm sure right now there are hypocrite alarms going off for some of my female readers (assuming I have female readers that is), but it's true. I can't imagine adding forty minutes to my morning routine to de-wookie myself, not to mention the investment in razors and shaving cream that would entail.

The thing is, because this is all I see, I become self-conscious about it at times. I mean, I'm not Robin Williams furry. If I take off my shirt, you can tell I'm not wearing a sweater or anything. Still, it makes me wonder if my good lady wife would, despite her protests, actually prefer the more aerodynamic look I see all around me. This is especially true in the most complained of area, the back hair, where I don't actually have full coverage, but rather one decent row of hair right across the top of my back.

Yeah, nothing says sexy like a unibrow across the back.

Still, I hold fast for the most part, taking comfort in the odd exceptions. Hugh Jackman seems to have retained sex symbol status, so there's hope for us manly men yet. In the meantime, I'll maintain my longstanding policy of simply remaining clothed pretty much all the time I'm within public view. Well, I don't know about longstanding, but at least since the neighborhood association got that complaint about me taking the garbage out half-dressed because I was running late.

If any of them knew how long it took to get those garters on in the first place, I'm sure they would have been a little more understanding.