Self Abuse

I have recently read that the people behind the Oxford Dictionary (or possibly those who make the online edition) have named "Selfie" the word of the year. It seems rather early to do so, not even being December yet, but I suppose they must get their name out there now if there is to be any hope of making a splash in the Christmas shopping season. I don't know who buys dictionaries, but the publishers of them seem content to degrade themselves plenty in hopes of reaching that market.

In any case, I have found time and time again that I am either not good at taking selfies or my likeness cannot be accurately captured by selfies. There is something magical that happens when the picture is taken just a few feet further away and features both of my arms in frame. I don't always look good that way, but there's at least a chance of it. There's also a greater chance of my eyes being red, but it's a risk worth taking.

To Think Of Youth? Uncouth.

Some movie stars seem like they were always old. Some of them were just that. When was Clint Eastwood ever young? Charles Bronson strikes me the same way. Even in their older movies they seem none too youthful. Others did not become known until they were older, so there's no way of knowing. It's enough to make you very curious about what they did look like in days of yore. There is nothing to help it except the imagination.

I employ my imagination also to picture some of the people I know personally as they must have looked long ago. Some I believe must have been strikingly good looking. For others, their aged condition is a convenient cover for being unsightly, for unsightly they had to have been even in their salad days. Even with them, I strive to imagine just what they must have looked like. Concrete evidence would be ideal, for my imagination does run away on me.

Proof I'm Not Aloof

As I've made abundantly clear, I never used to socialize all that much. It would happen once in a while, and somewhat more during the summer when I was among many of my Boy Scout friends all the time. I would have liked something to tide me over during the stretches of time during which I had no such social encounters. I mean by that of course that I would like to have had pictures and other visual documentation as mementos through which I could relive such high points while in solitude.

Pictures might have been taken, but could not easily be disseminated. I might have been able to take a look at some once in a long while if visiting a friend in person. You can guess about how often that happened. Enter today's internet, at last powerful enough to mirror the real-life socializing of human beings. I'm doubly blessed with its advent. I have so many friends now and so much to do with them. What makes it better still is that there is proof of it all.