Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, January 30, 1993 TAG: 9301300005
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
IT'S ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU SWEAT
I was lolling around wearing the new sweats outfit I got for Christmas when I noticed my horoscope indicated I was working too hard.As we used to say in Radford, I had to laugh.
Here I am wearing this outfit, not to better my body, but to fool people. For example, I wear it to be noticed by the impressionable young mothers who drive around in vans helping their daughters peddle Girl Scout cookies.
I try to look all sweaty, and they assume I'm just back from a four-mile run, and next Sunday dinner they tell their fathers:
"Honest, daddy. This old ruin is older than you are, and he's out there every day."
I get a kick out of imagining all of these old guys being forced to buy sweats and going speed-walking or ruining their knees jogging.
I wear my suit to give the neighbors the same impression, but they know better. They know I'm a sluggish individual who gets tired going to the mailbox.
My new outfit also contributes to my sense of self-worth, which is important when you're my age. I like to wear it with my green John Deere cap with the gold braid on the bill. I makes me look like an athlete who is aging gracefully and still has a few good moves left.
Of course, my children and other people tend to snicker when they see me sweat-suited in front of the TV - the remote box in one hand and a bag of microwave popcorn in the other.
Working too hard? Listen, pal. I admit right now that I watched the Clintons walking to the White House for hours - at least it seemed hours - and I even got interested in the hat Hillary was wearing. Do busy people do things like that? I think not.
I miss my sweats when they have to be washed, which is often because they seem to attract an awful lot of spaghetti sauce, mustard, mayonnaise and stuff like that.
They give a slob a little class, which is not say that I have to wear them to be lazy and good-for-nothing. If you ladies will pardon me for saying so, I can be lazy and good-for-nothing without a stitch on.
Incidentally, if you didn't like the hat Hillary was wearing, don't tell me about it.
I'm not going to tell you what I thought of her hat because this is not gentlemanly, and, at my age, you don't want to offend someone who is supposed to do something about medical care in this country.
Anyway, what do I know about hats?
What I need is a horoscope that says:
"Get out of those sweats and get going. Your mind may clear to the extent that you can remember what kind of Girl Scout cookies you ordered."