It’s true. Long ago (would you believe 40 years ago I was a bonified High School Senior?)… Long ago - high school basketball team. Underarm hair very ‘fair’ colored. Wasn’t much there, but what there was - you couldn’t see it from ten feet away.
So…… In living this life with “EVERYONE HAS THEIR EYEBALLS ON ME” - that bothered me. What bothered you? The “everyone has their eyeballs on me?” thing? Well, yes, that did/does bother me. I live with it though. I know it’s not true, but sometimes hard to convince my innards.
What I was talking about though - was the underarm thing. Due to the fact, I feared if I shot, and demonstrated proper form (HERE FOLKS… TAKE A PEEK… I AIN’T GOTS NO UNDERARM HAIR) that I would be laughed at. Made fun of. Insteada the chant “OVERRATED” I feared “NO UNDERARM HAIR” chanting.
So, I didn’t shoot much. Which, considering I wasn’t that great at it, was probably a good thing.
Underarms are really not one of the more attractive body parts. (How those European men put up with European women’s underarm hair is beyond me. Nowadays, with women shaving EVERYTHING, why would they ‘grow’?)
As a child. We’re underarm. Meaning protected. Taken care of. Raised. Loved.
As a middle school, junior high twerp, we experience our first “underarm” experience - and, when found out or demonstrated in public (at the movie theater, walking the hallway, out and about getting a Coke) news spreads fast.
Underarm signifies “mine.” Hands off. Taken. Mutual. We marry - perhaps one of the more ultimate underarms. I Victor, do hereby give you my underarm, till death due us part. (Wonder if that’s why divorce is the pits? Hehe)..
We procreate, and the underarm thing starts allover again. Tis a wonderful feel - one that we never let go of, but, we know we must back off the protective ways as these children turn the corner into adulthood. I haven’t seen the movie “Blind Side” - but I understand it’s all about protection, “having one’s back.” Underarm.
So, the embarrassments of underarm in my life continue. DON’T SHOOT, THEY’LL SEE YOU HAVE NO HAIR THERE!…… Divorce… ALL EYES ARE ON ME. THE PITS!
And now… I think a psychologist would explain it as “you do this, because it’s safe, you have no chance of failure.” DO WHAT?
I see dead people. Just kidding. I see women “underarm” and I’m attracted. One specifically. Many otherwise. This underarm thing keeps rearing it’s… it’s… cavity… in my life. “you do this, because it’s safe, you have no chance of failure.”
Not proud of this fact - that I’m attracted to those ‘underarm’, but agin, sometimes my brain has a mind of it’s own - and it takes on the braking ability of a child going down a hill in a red wagon (remember the Radio Flyer?)……
So that’s it, the many takes of underarm. Scary. Titillating. The pits. Proud. Protective. And, as admirer of a few currently underarm, unfortunate, perhaps in several ways.
So……….. If you happen by, it’s good to have your eyeballs underarm for a short.
Just had another thought - sorry, I know you thought I was closing. Relax armpit breath… When one wanders into WallyWorld. At the deodorant aisle - do you buy the most expensive underarm stuff - or - are you like me and it’s the Dollar Store type? Eww. Sorry. Again, much, much good has happened relating to underarm in my life - but a few not-so-good.
Waving goodbye now. Oops. Can’t do that. My fair hair wouldn’t show up. Nodding bye now.
With love, from the armpit of the US, Victurd.
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