Wayne Post
  • Anne Palumbo: A man’s approach to swimsuit season deserves praise

  • Swimsuit season’s almost here, and once again I’m looking forward to doing what I did last year to get in shape: nothing.

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  • Swimsuit season’s almost here, and once again I’m looking forward to doing what I did last year to get in shape: nothing.
    I didn’t always do nothing. In years past, I always did something. I believe I ate celery for a week, perhaps lifted a sack of flour for a fortnight. I think I bleached things, and I may have even assaulted my underarms with a Weed Wacker. I know a handheld sander played an important role. Whatever I did, I have no doubt it was heroic.
    Women’s magazines, my bibles from April to June, kept me on track. Full of diet tips, shape-up regimes, and toned babes in frisky bikinis, they were the wind beneath my bloated sails.
    “I can do this,” I wailed, year after year after year.
    But all that came to a screeching halt several years ago. If you’re thinking it’s because I got older and less comfortable with showing so much seasoned skin, well, you are wrong. I have never liked showing skin and would shower in clothing if I could.
    No, I quit busting my hump to get in shape because I got wise to what men do to prepare for swimsuit season. In a word: nothing. They try on last year’s suit, and if it doesn’t fit, they buy a new one. End of story. Good to go. Where’s the cash bar?
    Although I had always known this to be true, I never gave it a second thought.
    But then I had an epiphany one spring morning while pouring over men’s magazines in the grocery store. I don’t know about other women, but I thoroughly enjoy this literary pastime because it keeps me in tune with what men are thinking about. No comment.
    In sharp contrast to pre-summer women’s magazines, men’s magazines say zilch about the upcoming swimsuit season. That’s not to say they’re devoid of fat-blasting workouts and pro-muscle powerfoods – are you kidding? It’s all they talk about! Okay, fine, it’s not all they talk about, but now is not the time to dredge up a man’s obsession with spreading mulch.
    My point is, men don’t put pressure on other men to gear up for a season that comes and goes quicker than you can say, “Shall I put the wieners on the barbie?” Accordingly, men seem less stressed about their bodies and don’t even see the excess belly tissue that prevents them from winning the limbo contest. They seem to wear what they want, eat whatever, and hit the beach running.
    I admire that relaxed outlook, which is why I embraced it many moons ago. In fact, I admire it so much that I have adapted it to all kinds of circumstances. Ask me what I do to prepare for summer houseguests?

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