Wax on, wax off

My brother’s treatments continue to go well. The hospital staff are exceedingly friendly and efficient while providing treatment that is generally problem and pain free. Too pain free it seems.

Clearly missing any sort of pain feedback during the treatments that would confirm that something is actually happening, Mike decided to take matters into his own hands. Today at noon, Mike had his back waxed.

Now, unless you happened to be at the ILS office on one of the company’s occasional clothing-optional Fridays, you have probably only encountered Mike fully clothed. As such, you have probably not spent a lot of time contemplating the ramifications of today’s activity. However, those of you who know Mike outside of the workplace, in the wild as it were, have already cringed at seeing the words Mike and waxed in the same sentence.

I don’t mean to imply that Mike is particularly hairy, at least not compared to Chewbacca. But those of you old enough to remember will know what I mean when you hear the words Burt Reynolds and bearskin rug. Yep, Mike is the rug. At the beach nearsighted people have puzzled at his decision to wear a sweater while playing in the surf. Why else do you suppose he chose “Silverback” as his computer password?

If you have already seen “The 40 Year Old Virgin” you may think you have an insight into today’s activities. But watching the movie from the comfort of a movie theater or from your sofa at home does not do justice to the mayhem which took place. The smells and sounds were like something from an Upton Sinclair novel. Think “Passion of the Christ” - Live, on stage. Car alarms kept going off from the bellowing. Two dozen vultures roosted in the tree behind the salon. In neighboring Arizona, Navajo village elders nodded to each other knowingly. In the end the assistants were worn out from having to use pitchforks to fill their wheelbarrows with hair and wax. But it was all worth it.

He emerged, glistening like a seal fresh from the sea. Only redder. And still hairy in front. Standing proudly in front of us it was clear that Mike knew his place in the animal kingdom; right at the top. Or damn near it.

It is to early to tell what impact the “New Mike” will have back in Virginia. But there is one thing I know for certain and it can be expressed in two words, “razor stubble.” Something to think about as we approach a full moon.

Reposted from Nov 2, 2006