Look at me.
I mean, just look at me.
Greta took this picture in St. John a couple weeks ago. I am standing in front of the sign for Trunk Bay [I zoomed and cropped so you could get a nice close-up]. I wanted to send it to my father, because I had been there with him when I was a kid, and it was a special memory.
After taking the picture, she handed my phone back to me, and I quickly uploaded it to Facebook, without looking at it. Comments immediately started pouring in:
“Sunblock. Get some.”
“You must work out.”
“Here he is, the Nautilus poster child.”
“Nice “after” photo for your P90X testimonial.”
“By far the funniest post in a while Herbs!”
And, finally, “Wow. This photo is just wrong on so many levels. Why Chris, why?”
That last one was from my sister, Stephanie. And I have to agree with her. Please allow me to describe the levels.
- It’s hard not to start with my color. You can see the line where the sun didn’t reach. This is because I got to the beach, put my towel on the sand, and then sat in the most uncomfortable position ever for 8 hours. I was 110% absorbed in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and too lazy to adjust, shift, flip, or change positions in any way. I really know how to relax. It must have been a sight to behold.
- Check out my belly. My wife is supposed to be the pregnant one. Look how it slopes down to my bathing suit, at like a 45 degree angle. How do my pants stay up? When did this happen?
- Next, my ribs. You can see them. At least 3 of them. I have a pudgy belly and you can see my ribs. Mmmmm.
- Chest Hair. Feast your eyes on my glorious chest hair. I have no hair anywhere else, except this impossibly thick patch right in the middle of my chest. It extends about 2 inches farther on my right pectoral than my left. And it looks like pubic hair.
- Now take another look at my chest. Any doctors out there? Is it possible that I was born without any muscle tissue in my chest? The only thing more repulsive would be one of those indented chests. There was always one kid at the pool party with an indented chest. I always hated that kid.
- Work your way down my arm, try not to get too distracted by the bulging biceps, until you get to my wrist. What is that bone? Why is it sticking out of my arm? It’s hard to look at without shuddering.
- Why do I hold my hand like that? Like a vulture or some other bird of prey. Definitely not human.
- Now, move down to the towel. I am wearing a towel from the Westin resort around my bathing suit. Why? A casual observer (which you are anything but, if you are still reading) would think I have nothing underneath that towel. No wonder people were giving me a wide berth.
- Finally, and I hope this isn’t too much information, but take a look at that nipple. Here he comes, Sand-Dollar Herbert.
Did I miss anything?
Doesn’t this make you wonder about my wife? I do pretty well but I really don’t make that much money.