Binderama60for60

I don’t spend much time looking in the mirror these days. No hair to comb, no tie to straighten, no flexing after a session at the gym. But that wasn’t always the case. Mirrors have played a big role in my life, and likely yours too.

A little history: Mirrors (and vanity) date back to 6000 B.C., first using polished volcanic glass and then various metals. It was in 14th Century Venice (vanity central) that glass and metals intersected, at first as a supreme luxury item. Surprising to me that it was the Germans who made mirrors for the masses. Of course, today we have phones and Zoom to help us primp and preen all through the day. And go on mute.

But I digress.

Bay City Rollers

Be honest: Have you ever put on a show for one, rocking out at the mirror holding a hairbrush as microphone? Uh huh. yeah, I bet. Well, I’ll cop to spinning up a 45 of “Saturday Night” on the hifi back in the 70s and shouting out “S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night! S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night!” What was your song? And don’t be ashamed if it some classic Ozzy or late-model Tay-Tay.

Confidence Check

In college and my 20s, when at a party, I might stop at a mirror in the bathroom to check things every now and again. The mullet. The top button. The stonewashed crotch. More than that, I would turn the moments into a pep talk about what could happen that night, how and with whom. It very rarely ever worked out that way, but it made me feel better: “This guy gets me, he’s on my side.” Maybe it was consolation more than confidence.

TMI

I took a sex-ed class in college where an assignment was to use a hand mirror to observe our nethers. It wasn’t an in-class lab–which would have been awkward but memorable–so I’m not sure how we were checked on the assignment. Thank gawd there were no phone cameras back then, for many reasons.

Okay, here’s some real TMI. There were times when a mirror played into moments of intimacy. On a ceiling, a wall, a convex one (with a 7-11 logo) mounted above a dresser. Such things were all the rage back then, and probably for centuries, but not a good look for one of those involved in the act.

Heart-to-Heart

I mentioned confidence above. There’ve been as many moments when the mirror reflected my shame. The aftermath of extremely bad choices involving over-indulgence, personal conduct, etcetera, etcetera. I can think of–and wince at–memories of too many late nights and early mornings when I leaned on the bathroom counter and stared at myself with disgust and loathing. “How could you?” “Again!” It might take a day or two, but I’d eventually make peace with my reflection. It’s the only one I have. I can forgive but I won’t forget. And, hopefully, the next time will be a long time down the road. Yeah right.

Serious as a…

It’s been 20 years since I woke up at my place in Santa Monica and put the coffee on, as was routine. All of a sudden I felt a buzzing in my chest. Not painful but not right. My panic reflexes jumped in and I was pacing fast around the apartment, up and down the stairs. Until finally, I caught my reflection in a hallway mirror. My face was ash, gray and dead. Fuck! Though I had no other symptoms, beyond the buzzing sensation, I knew something was seriously wrong.

As I’ve described in earlier 60|60 posts, I foolishly drove myself to St. Johns Hospital and walked three blocks to the emergency room. Within 30 minutes I was in the catheter lab watching on a big screen as ink coursed through my heart, all the ventricles and curvy things pulsing and pumping. It was like a mirror (into my soul!) but a lot more expensive–and very cool!

Long and short: they found nothing to alarm. But I spent the next five days seeing reflections of so many different angels of myself that made the college sex-ed course seem tame.

Puttin’ on the Ritz

Mary and I attended a big city wedding a few years back. It was black-tie optional. And after years of wearing sweatpants stuck at home, we took the bait big time. Before we left our hotel room, we admired ourselves in the full-length mirror. We looked good. Old but good and gussied up.

Fairest of Them All

Any mirror shows us who we really are or appear to be, right now, at this moment, in this place and circumstance. More than appearance, mirrors are a literal reflection of us. If we’re honest, mirrors let us delve deeper, allow us to console ourselves in ways we can’t with other people. Am I the fairest of them all? God no. Never have been, though there were some good looks. But I got this. That’s me. I know who I am and what I look like. Now, I can look away.

But I’ll be back.