October 27th, 2010
It’s been brought to my attention (by me) that there are two types of attractive people in the world:
1) Those who won the genetic lottery from day one and have sauntered through life exhibiting undeniable good looks.
2) Then there are those that started off with a low rating on the attractive scale and then became united with the gift of good looks later in life.
When I speak of “attractive” in this entry, I am not including stellar personalities and someone with an essence that exudes a golden light. I’m reaching for the lowest common denominator and only defining beauty in the superficial physical sense. You know that beautiful person. The one who undoubtedly provokes an extended glance from anyone with a heartbeat (and genitals) regardless of gender, religion, race, social status, political leanings, sexual preferences, etc.
My limited to no research on this topic was piqued when I lived in Greenwich Village and had a neighbor whose olive complexioned good looks would warrant 2 thumbs up. From people with opposable thumbs. My instincts told me that he landed in the cute all his life category. To my delight, we started talking in the hall, the elevator and outside the building. Then “rational Jax” bitch slapped “heart is flutter” Jax and pointed out that my building crush was the only one doing the talking. About his perceived awesomeness. He was trying to launch some upscale men’s magazine whose target audience seemed to be men who were also attractive for their whole lives. Rational Jax was right. All I was doing was smiling and nodding. And my neck hurt.
Could it be that those who spend a lifetime relying on good looks have been cursed with underdeveloped personalities? The reason I ask is because I have vacillated from good stages to bad stages in the looks arena for a lifetime. Here’s the time line:
Age 0-2 – Really challenging time for Jax. I was “eh” looking and the exaggeration of fat. This perplexed my viewers as my parents were called Ken & Barbie and my older brother was oh so Gerber baby.
Ages 3-9 – This was a happy time for me. I slimmed out, grew long blond hair and finally looked like I was a Kabat. I was the quintessential waspy looking Jew. Bonus that I was featured in the local newspaper. Decorating a Christmas tree.
Ages 10-12 – These were gut wrenching years of an insecure preteen horror show and the beginning of frequent trips to the dermatologist. He looked like Phil Donahue.
Age 13 – I had a brief puberty year of hotness. Older men looked at my body. Flattering. And creepy.
Age 14- Today – Continued good days and bad days. On July 17th, 1995 I looked great in the morning and lost my game by the afternoon.
I assume flowing through life with multiple levels of attractiveness was the catalyst for developing somewhat of a personality. On the contrary, my old neighbor seemed to be sliding by because of never living the agony of sub par looks. Interesting note, rational Jax just informed me that his body has taken a downward spiral and has become shaped like a pear.
Sometimes this developed personality of mine is that of an asshole.