Cat Faces and Hairless Chihuahuas

          I have discovered Jigsaw World on Facebook. I used to love to do jigsaw puzzles, when life was slower and simpler. Now they require too much space and use up valuable time – unless they are on Facebook where I waste most of my valuable time anyway. They are my addiction of choice right now, and it is easy to access new ones. The puzzle I did just a little while ago was a collage of cat faces, just their faces – no ears or paws or tails. Just a set of 36 cat faces.

          It was hard, but not impossible to do because I could line up the eyes and the lines between pictures. It got a little creepy fitting together all those eyes, but they were all pretty cats. There were no hairless cats or those Siamese cats with the heads like anvils. Those kinds of cats are just simply ugly. Like mole rats and hairless Chihuahuas.

          The word ‘ugly’ is no longer politically correct, I’ve noticed. Whenever I say, “That is ugly!” I either get no response or the ameliorating “Oh, noooo. I think they’re cute.” Pardon me, Polyanna; some things are just plain butt-ugly. I don’t care how much they cost or how rare they are, hairless animals are ugly. And it seems to me that if we can have a culturally stipulated definition for beauty, we can damn well have one for ugly as well.

          My legs are ugly. They have cellulite and moles and wrinkles and I don’t care to bare them in public anymore. I even use a cover-up as soon as I get out of a swimming pool. Somehow, it doesn’t matter to me how ugly they are at the beach. I will never see any of those people again. If they observe my ugly legs and judge them, it really isn’t any of my business. At a neighborhood pool, it isn’t as okay. Someone might know me and tell my husband or my son that I have ugly legs, and my protectors might punch the bastard. That would be bad. On the other hand, my husband and my son might agree with the bastard, in which case they would be bastards, too. But my point is that there is such a thing as ugly legs, and I accept that.

          What I do not accept is the idea that I am not considered beautiful because of my legs, breasts, stomach, neck wrinkles, or hair style. Taken all together, I am not particularly sexually appealing; but I am still quite beautiful if you look at my eyes, hair color, and smile. True, you have to ignore my nose, but I should still be able to pass for beautiful. Therefore, my definition of beauty for people would be “Parts is parts, but people are beautiful somehow, so look for it.” My definition of ugliness would still be hairless animals. And I would add trashy streets, Hummers, puce, and television satellites. When you leave humans out of the equation, you should not be in danger of offending someone when you say, “Good God, that is ugly.”   

           And now I must return to Jigsaw World. I’ll try not to think so much this time. The next picture is some kind of big-eyed monkey-thing hanging in a tree. I don’t think I will have any comments on that.