Senior Moments
By Charles P. Eberson
It has probably been at least twenty five years since I wore women’s makeup. Permit me to clarify. I was working at a local newspaper where we would have fun launching special advertising sections by performing skits or amusing presentations. Someone had the bright idea of dressing up three male (if I can still use that term) sales executives. I was one of people of whom volunteerism was thrust upon. There were wigs, dresses, high heels, makeup and that is about as much as I am willing to disclose. We all had a lot of fun and the launch of the fashion section was a success. Still today, after so many years, former colleagues would not fail to remind me of how we looked in our fashion ensembles. I thought those days were well behind me but when our five year old granddaughter saw a commercial on TV showing a young girl putting makeup on her grandfather before her tea party, my loving wife suggested they do that with me. Never wanting to disappoint my grandchildren, I agreed to go undergo the makeup procedure again. Eye shadow, rouge, an eyebrow pencil, red lipstick and purple glitter nail polish were laid out on the table like a surgical theater. My granddaughter was having so much fun applying the eye shadow that my seven year old grandson wanted to have a try. A word of caution was issued as he almost poked my eye out. My granddaughter darkened one eyebrow and my grandson the other. My wife helped apply the lipstick while I struggled to mimic the shape of her lips. Then the nail polish was applied and we were finished. Or so I thought. I learned that part of the bargain was taking everyone out for ice cream. The young girls behind the counter bought into act and agreed to be part of the video. Other patrons, however tried to avert their eyes. In the end, the grandkids enjoyed applying the makeup and my humiliation at the ice cream parlor. The next morning my wife and I went to support the Dean Randazzo paddling event. I had removed my makeup but thought I would leave the nail polish removal for later. This, of course elicited comments from the staff and I once again had to explain myself. Day three, I decided I better remove the polish. To my dismay, I found that our nail polish removal did nothing to take off the polish and I just gave in to the fact that I would have some explaining to do for the foreseeable future. Maybe I could try some gasoline or turpentine from the garage or at least the Dremel, I thought but my wife suggested stronger polish remover. With some scrubbing, that remover got rid of most of the polish with just a glimmer of sparkle remaining. If I gave my granddaughter the memory of putting make up on her Pop Pop and taking her to the ice cream parlor, a few remnants of glitter on my nails is an exceedingly small price to pay.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
