I was all set to bag the xmas newsletter this year. No software, funky printer, dining room table already full etc etc. Consequently, Durf is spearheading the effort.
Selecting pictures is always challenging because the pictures to which we each have attachments and aversions don't typically overlap in significant enough numbers to avoid heated negotiations.
This year, since I'm being a slacker, I'm trying to keep my mouth shut. But a couple of days ago, Durf came into my office waving a picture of me. "Look," he said proudly, "I photoshopped out your wrinkles!"
"WHAT???!!?" I shouted to myself. To Durf I said, "Oh."
So here's the problem. It's not that I wanted him to put my wrinkly face front and center. No siree. The problem was that he noticed my wrinkles at all. And if Durf notices my wrinkles, what does that say about the rest of the world?
Now, if I had selected the picture and said, "Can you photoshop my wrinkles out of this shot," I would be at peace with the world. But the shock of discovering that my wrinkles can actually be seen by other people was almost more than I could bear.
So I ushered him out of my office and closed the door. Then I called up the spirit of Nora Ephron. Wait...is she still alive?
1 comment:
What a nice husband to do such a thoughtful deed without being asked!
(Durf, either you're nuts, or you're a braver man than I, or both. :-)
Boy, I can't wait to get a copy of this xmas missive; it will surely be a classic.
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