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Friday, April 13, 2007

Hot Grandpas


So, Baughtronic sent this photo to me a while ago. She was photo-shopping it for her grandma. If I were her grandma, I’d ask to have it blown up to poster size and hung above my bed. I don’t know what that means. The point is, it’s weird to see a photo of your grandpa and think, “Whoa, he was hot. I can’t believe I have hot ancestry.” That’s exactly what Baughtronic thought when she saw it. I know because she said so in the email that accompanied the picture. I mean image. I mean photo*.

I guess the surprise for gorgeous people like me and Baughtronic would be to see old photos of our grandfathers and find that they were ugly, bucktoothed creatures with
asymmetrical faces and humps on their backs. You hardly expect beautiful people to have ugly children, but it’s not so strange to find ugly people with the occasional beautiful child. At least, I’ve seen it happen.

I’m sure all this can be measured mathematically. There are times when beautiful people have an ugly child. If you look back far enough, you’ll see that one of the genetic lines was muddied by an ugly parent. If an ugly child has two beautiful parents, you might just check out the extended family. Is one of the beautiful parents the ONLY beautiful member of the family? Then it only stands to reason that the ugly gene popped up in the beautiful couples offspring. That’s how genetics work, after all. And plastic surgery can't alter genetics. Or can it?

Wow. I can’t believe I’m writing this. I had no idea I was such a strong supporter of beauty eugenics. The point is, I have a hot grandpa too. And a hot grandma. Boy, was Sarah a looker. The problem is, the man I call grandpa isn’t my biological grandpa. Who knows what my biological grandfather looked like as a young man. I only saw him once, as an old man, and if that had any bearing on how I look now, I’d be bald and wrinkly.

My adopted grandpa was a looker and a real sweetheart of a man. When I finally get a digital image of him, you’ll see. Hot grandpa.



*This hilarious joke illustrates the tension between a photographer and language. Does it cheapen the art to call a picture a ‘picture’ and not an ‘image?’ Or, when it’s not a beautiful photo of a man in a cable sweater with pigeons perched on his arms, should it even be considered art?

4 comments:

baughtronic said...

Can you actually prove those are my words? And are you calling me ugly? Maybe you haven't seen my profile picture.

Aries327 said...

You try so hard to hide your beauty. Even enormous glasses and a fake, chipmunk grin can't hide the Venusian beauty you bear.

http://www.astrologyguidance.com/sunsigns/libra.shtml

I still have the email. So yes, I can prove your words. Fool! Bwah ha ha ha.

Erica said...

Both of my grandpas were quite the looker. I hope I got some of their genes.

My husband hates it when people call him a "picture man" as opposed to a photographer. I don't really get it.

Aries327 said...

Hey Erica, thanks for the comment. I deleted your other comment just because I prefer not to have my last name on my blog. Lots of people who read my blog already know it, but some don't.

We're doing great! Still in Nashville.

Picture man, I've never heard that one. Must be an old-timey thing to say. Like when my grandma says someone succumbed to the cancer. Or asks where the babe is when inquiring about her great-grandkids. Really cute.

Anyway, good to hear from you!