There is no question my age is showing more and more. Even at my advanced age, and escorted by my wife, I still notice good looking girls, but lately I have paid more attention to the way they dress than the shape of their legs or the depth of their cleavage. While eating out this past weekend, I noticed a few young ladies at a table near us who were representative of what I have noticed more and more through the years. They wore jeans that I would have discarded when I was their age. They wear these tank tops or muscle type shirts for girls with their bra straps of a different color ornamenting their shoulder in addition to the tacky shirt. Their tattered jeans extend far below the cleavage of the abundant mounds of the buttock and a tattoo usual ornaments this cleavage. Their ears usually have multiple piercings along the cartliage of the pinna. The brow and tongue rings are frequent sites to compliment the ear. Beauty like this can only be found in National Geographic. Their hair styles look more like a scarecrow.
All this is in contrast to the type girls I grew up with who looked like Marilyn Monroe and Lauren Bacall in How to Marry a Millionaire and all the people in my time looked like those in the Peyton Place movie. All were well dressed. Even the activities depicted in Peyton are a Sunday School picnic compared to the activities of today.
My observations on the youth and average person of the time were quickly put into proper perspective this weekend when I went to Tyler to visit my severely demented sister. She sat in the chair blissfully smiling, totally unaware of the cesspool of humanity roaming the streets. There are some advantages to dementia.