You May Be A Gorgeous Dame, But that Skeleton Of Yours Turns Me Off...One Man's Battles With The Human Design...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor-In-Chief

McALLEN, Texas - Is it just me, or do all of us have a fight with the human body's perplexing design? Do you stop and ask yourself what you'd think of your woman companion if you could see - and hold - her tailbone? Meatless, it looks very much like the skeletal ribs of a small bird, like those of a young crow or a fattened parakeet - not attractive at all. Bones. Why bones?

It is said that a human being needs those bones - his chasis - to stand erect, to wrap muscles around it and help propel it, say, from the bedroom to the bathroom. Those who say that are not lying; that's exactly the function of the skeleton. But why not a high-tech design, if we can borrow a word from manufacturing. Why would the Creator go with the ugly skeleton? It is ugly. Bones are never pretty, not those of a baby, nor those of the most beautiful actress. Bones are strictly utilitarian; that is, they do a job, and they do it under cover of outer skin.

Anatomy tells us there are 206 bones in the adult human skeleton, although that number may change as one ages for a variety of healthy reasons. Newborn babies count more than 270 bones, some of which later fuse together. Studies show that the human skeleton takes 20 years before it is fully developed. By the age of 40 in women and roughly 45 in men, those bones begin their slide into something akin to rusting in automobiles. The older a human being, the worse the bones function. Those Old Geezers walking into Luby's Cafeteria at odd angles are not doing it because they want to. Their bones have simply aged to the point of stiffness. It happens steadily and is unforgiving. Loss of bone marrow leads to brittleness, in some cases breaking in older people in the course of, say, taking a step or reaching for a bath towel.

So, why would anyone design such a cheap contraption for the Human body? I can't answer that, and neither can anyone except for biologists who will tell you we are made of flesh and bones and that it is your DNA that defines your skeleton's ability to sustain you into old age. Think of skeletons as automobile models: some people have Fords and some have Cadillacs.

I hate the idea of my skeleton, really because I see it as someone else in there under my skin, some lousy stick figure who should get the Hell out and leave me alone. But alone then would be a mass of muscle and skin and tissue piled on my bedroom floor. I need a Goddamned skeleton; I just hate to admit it.

The other day, at my favorite coffee shop, I looked at people I see most mornings with the skeleton in mind and decided skin is very much like clothes. There are quite a few customers at this particular Starbucks I'd not want to see naked, and there were as many whose skeletons likely would have been just as scary.

There was the young school librarian who could use a few pounds. Her skeleton no doubt would look even skinnier. There was the fat guy who walks in and asks for a grande cup of coffee and three/four pastries. His skeleton has to be just as fat as he is, bones that'll test an army of maggots when they finally bury his ass. It's funny. You can do that all damned day.

I'm just glad that the best body parts in a woman are not boney.

The creator of such loveliness was on the ball, is my feeling...

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