Cherry Blossom Infused Essence of Pomegranate--"Pro"

For years I have wondered about the Shewolf's obsession with shampoo. As you all know, she has amazingly beautiful hair. She has always been a striking brunette with tints of auburn highlights. There are many women who would kill for hair like hers. Ever since I met her, I have loved the smell and feel of her hair.


As many of my faithful readers know, I loathe having to reveal personal (and embarrassing) vignettes on a blog with a world wide readership, but candor has become an expectation of my readership. So here we go, again...Some months ago, the Shewolf asked me what shampoo I preferred. She was considering changing her shampoo from Cherry Blossom Infused Essence of Pomegranate--Pro (or something that sounds alot like that) to Revitalized Herbal Essence of Lustere--Salon Style (or something that sounds alot like that). I just looked at her quizically. What does a manly man with no head hair say to a question like that? I have used nothing but a simple bar of soap on every part of my body for at least 2 decades. I wondered how could she not know that? I honestly cannot distinguish the quality of hair on my pate from that on my elbow (or any other body part). It all needs to be cleaned; and I can think of nothing better to handle the job than a very manly bar of Irish Spring, or in a pinch a bar of Dove handsoap. While I am satisfied with any bar of soap, the reason, I prefer Irish Spring is primarily due to the ad that used to run on TV many years ago, which showed a tall, and ruggedly handsome sailor stepping off a fishing boat onto the wharf into the arms of a really hot, fawning brunette, and tossing a bar of soap to some admiring young boy who would undoubtedly grow up someday and be just as smooth with the women. Being so manly that a beautiful and adoring brunette would be waiting on the wharf mysteriously had something to do with using Irish Spring. The effectiveness of this ad is truly puzzling to me. Everytime I have stepped off a boat, I usually smell like fish. Somehow the geniuses on Madison Avenue were able to create a loyalty to Irish Spring based upon an image of a incredibly hunky sailor and a mildly annoying Irish tune whistling in the background. Now while this sounds incredibly stupid, look at me: I have mostly used Irish Spring for my entire life and I did manage to land a gorgeous brunette who has stayed with me for almost 30 years now (and as many of you know, I have at times smelled a lot like fish). This might explain my preference for Irish Spring. So when the Shewolf suggests that I try something like Satin Extreme Pantene with Essence of Apple Sheen--Pro X, I comfortably think of the image of the sailor in the Irish Spring ad from my childhood and with confidence know that any shampoo she suggests cannot possibly improve my looks, or my life.




I have included with this post a couple of pics from Sydney's reception showing the contrast between my wife's hair and mine. One could easily conclude from these pictures that Irish Spring is so darn effective that you don't even need head hair for the product to do its thing!

Petunia Boy

Many thoughtful members of my vast worldwide readership have inquired, "What special powers could a superhero named 'Petunia Boy' possibly possess?" Thank you for your inquiries, both expressed and unexpressed. I have included some pictures of what Petunia Boy might produce. Now in all candor I can't really say that production of flowers, arranging flowers or maintaining perennial garden beds could actually save the world in a moment of crisis, but a superhero named Petunia Boy might nevertheless possess some other inate and spectacular special qualities that would only emerge in a time of dire circumstances. Unless the world becomes in need of his unique and special gifts we'll likely never know. Until then, let's all just enjoy the flowers.

These flowers were picked a couple of Sundays ago. 4,000+ square feet of perennial flower beds produce enough flowers do at least one arrangement every day of the week from April until first part of October. I usually only have time, however, to cut flowers Sunday evening after Church meetings. Especially now that I have a greenhouse and spend my time "puttering" in it when I have a few minutes. Now, if only I could muster some superhero powers to eradicate the weeds...

The Wolverine

First I must apologize to my vast worldwide readership for taking the past two months off, but I have been extremely busy with yard projects for Sydney's wedding reception, traveling to California for Sydney's wedding, and in general, simply entertaining guests. The past two months have been truly eventful for the Super Smarts. Temple endowments for Shea and Sydney, along with Sydney's temple sealing to Nick were the highlights to be sure. Somewhere along the way I ended up with a really cool greenhouse, which is fodder for a future post.

Seeing Snick's (Syd and Nick) wedding made me think about my relationship with the Shewolf. We have been married for 30 years on June 21st. We had a conversation the other day which truly defines our relationship. The Shewolf was deeply engaged in a book (her favorite pasttime) when the following conversation took place :

"So, when you think of me as a super hero, who do you think of?"

The Shewolf, not looking up from her book, replied:

"I don't really think of you as a superhero."

"Yeah but when you do think of me as a superhero, who comes to mind."

The Shewolf, briefly glancing up, tersely stated:

"Well that's just it, I think of you more as a husband and a father--not really a super hero."

Finally, in frustration and not really understanding her point, I demanded:

"Okay, but when you do think of me and then think about superheroes, who comes to mind?"

By this time, the Shewolf was visibly perturbed and without any thought whatsoever, simply responded with the first superhero that popped into her brain.

"Superman."

"Noooo! Not Superman! Guess again."

"Batman?"

"Noooo! You're not even trying! You're just naming the first superheroes that come to you. Seriously, look at me. Now think superhero. Who comes to mind?"

Okay. The Shewolf was now really ticked. I had pulled her completely away from her book; all the while, I was furiously motioning to my imaginery sideburns, and making really cool Wolverine motions and noises. Still, all she could muster was, "Okay Big Guy, who do you want me to say?"

"Are you kidding? The Wolverine!!! Don't you see it?!"

The Shewolf turning back to her book, muttered something under her breath like: "Whatever you say Big Guy."

I sulked for a few minutes, but soon got over it.

About a week later, as I was zipping to work on my Candy Apple Red Scooter, it dawned on me...Well, actually, it was more like a revelation--like a ton of bricks landing on my head and crushing my tender male ego. It was truly a moment of Zen. I realized that I am undermining my efforts to be viewed as a superhero by my wife because of the stupid things I do. Riding a Barbie-Scooter to work, growing pink roses and in general being so nice that's its virtually impossible to muster the rugged surliness that is the Wolverine--these things scream "Dork", not superhero.

So I thought to myself...Hmmmm...Maybe I need to come up with a superhero that truly describes my essence--something that I can actually live up to. Unfortunately, "Scooter Boy" and "Petunia Boy" were the only superhero names that made any sense when I reflected upon my life. But what special powers would superheroes with names such as that possess? When the chips are on the table, does mankind really want to have to depend on "Scooter Boy" or "Petunia Boy" to save the day? Would being thought of as such a superhero really improve in any appreciable way my standing with my wife? Afterall, more than anything, men need to believe that their wives view them as superheroes. It may come as a surprise to my vast worldwide readership, but I have never really been that enamored with the truth, particularly when to comes to me and how my wife views me. No siree! I am perfectly comfortable with fantasyland and have been for many years, which may explain my sincere disappointment when the Shewolf did not see in me rather obvious Wolverine like qualities.