Fuckable After 40

A colleague of mine is doing an editorial piece on the power of, um, Power Ballads.

Which got us all on YouTube in an effort to jog our memories in the search for ironic gold.

I chose to go the Skid Row route. As any woman over the age of 32 can attest to, like him or not, Sebastian Bach simply was the hottest, most heartbreakingly beautiful man on video circa 1989.

Literally born for the career he chose, Sebastian was a perfectly sculpted, bare chested specimen who - unlike most of us - looked fanfucknigtastic in leather pants. And even better in sweat.

His features were so delicate - so perfectly carved as if by the hands of angels - and it was with nothing short of wonder that I would admire flashes of his face across the television screen.

But how does one get past that? Reminiscing about him today led us all to the inevitable question of "have you seen what he looks like now?"

Sure, he doesnt look like he did 20 years ago - but who does? I sure as hell dont.

At the ripe age of 36 I now avoid looking in mirrors, and refuse to be in the same room as one (even in my own home) if I am in any stage of undress. But that's ok, because I was never that beuatiful to begin with. Us average folk are allowed the grace of imperfection, and are expected to degrade slowly over time.

Sebastian Bach, on the other hand, will always have to wear the crown of his former youthful perfection. Sure, he is still technically better looking than most people half his age. To be fair, the man still has a great physique, and has been able to maintain more than just a whiff of his former glory. So why does it feel so fucking disappointing?

I wonder if its hard for him, too. I mean, what is it like to know that, at the age of 28, you are riding the tail end of your glory days? Sure, he's a great singer and I am sure he is a wonderful person, but at the end of the day, it was his face (and okay, I'll admit it, his ass in those pants) that sealed the deal and made him something special.

But which is worse? Having "average" levels of physical beauty for your entire life - or having so much physical beauty, and knowing it can never be maintained.

Does "God" hand out beauty, and if so, are we all given the same amount? Is the only real difference between us all the rate at which we expend it?


I'm kinda glad to be a slow burner.



http://http://www.sebastianbach.com/pictures.html