I guess the hardest thing to get used to nowadays, is the unending penchant of young Americans to add footnotes to their bodies. You know; nose rings, chains from ear to lip, spiked or multicolored hair tufts, or garish body art of different dimensions.

Our last family vacation took place in Daytona Beach, Florida. If you ever thought of a place for people-watching as a hobby, Daytona is it. Of course, I don’t recommend spring break as a haven for marital bliss. With all the beach beauties, you not only risk whiplash, but corrective discipline from your wife. The only benefit of course, is you can save a bundle on Digitalis (heart stimulant medication).

It was the lazy part of the afternoon when I caught a glimpse of a very impressive young lady wearing a bathing suit that could have been washed in a thimble. Tanned and attractive, my opinion of her was dramatically altered the moment she passed by. It was then I noticed a huge American Eagle tattooed on her right caboose. I suppose if you were a member of the Audubon Society it could have brought a sense of exhilaration, but to me I felt sorry for her. I mean, right now it looked like an eagle, but what about 50 years from now? At the age of 70, how is she going to explain to her grandchildren that it is still an eagle and not a picture of a pigeon that was hit by a pickup truck?

Even today I feel a sense of bewilderment when I see perfectly healthy young men shaving their heads bald, for no earthly reason. I’d love to sport new hair; right now I look like a roll-on deodorant. But years from now these same men will probably be the ones who will bathe in Minoxidil so they can have real hair to attend their 20th high school reunion.

I’ve been out of high school three decades. My children laugh at my high school pictures that show me wearing a now out-of-date tie or wide collars on my shirts. What are the children of today’s generation going to laugh about when they see their parents’ pictures twenty years from now? A face that has so much metal on it that it looks like a fly-fishing lure display at a bait shop, or hair that looks like it was yanked out and styled by a Hoover?

We need to impress upon young people this message: If you don’t stop the insidious practice of marring your bodies, Moms across America are going to drag out their orange hip-huggers and halter tops, and Dads are going to dust off their pea green leisure suits and attend school with you. If this doesn’t scare them, I don’t know what will!