Since my stroke in September, my perspective on the world has changed. Not just how I think, but how I literally view the world from two feet lower in a wheelchair. I used to see eye-to-eye with most people, but today, I’m eye-to-ass with just about every human around me. One trip to Target and I can see nearly every phase of the moon. Allow me to elaborate.
Sir Mix-A-Lot may relish the view from at my altitude, but I can’t get to hyperspace fast enough when I’m surrounded by a solar system of cheesy planetary matter.
Sometimes it’s not the size of the ass that’s funny, but the fact that there’s nothing there. Take for instance, what I call “the bass.” Similar to cankles, the bass has no distinction between where the back ends and ass begins. Out of nowhere, a crack in the glutinous maximus forms and depending on size, a sweat trough of sorts can easily appear.
Conversely, I’ve seen others who seem to fit into the squash category, namely winter gourds. Remember when we were kids and there was a cartoon character who would wear a barrel with suspenders? Imagine if that barrel was a giant pumpkin squeezed into slacks. It’s not like I didn’t notice these things before, but at age seven, I couldn’t articulate what was in front of me.
I think the ass is the ultimate “to each his own” scenery. Everybody has their favorites. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s this: One man’s turd cutter is another man’s work of art… and I can hardly wait to get back to the eye-to-eye perspective.