I remember when I was in third, forth (and maybe even the fifth grade), the "rich kids" (which I'm using as a put-down, for some reason...that's probably not too fair)...the rich kids wore a lot of LL Bean stuff for a while. Mostly the guys, I guess -- it's a pretty guy-ish store -- and they would wear LL Bean flannel shorts, or khaki pants, or those plastic, low-top boots called "duck boots" because, I'm guessing, you're supposed to hunt ducks in them or something. So, I wanted LL Bean stuff. I wanted our family dog to sleep on a "pinewood green" LL Bean dog bed with her name stitched on it in cursive. (That is, of course, if we had an actual family dog at any point. We had a gerbil that my mom killed with a mag light by mistake, "the boyfriend" Jerry had a ferret for a while, and a cat or two would show up here and there for a while. A couple of years ago, mom got one of those yippie dogs that's easy to step on and is, in general, terrible...but CoCo came way after I left. But we never had that fluffy, old golden retriever that looks like it would lay down in traffic for you if you asked it to. If we did have a dog like that, I would have named her Wilhelmina Golden McNugget, and called her "Nugget" for short. Best dog name ever. Second best: Lester. Bronze medal: Clovis*.

ANYway, all of that came back to me today when I was looking at a random LL Bean catalogue for the first time in years. No idea why we got one in the mail, but while I was thumbing through it today in the bath, I started laughing out loud at some of the modeling pictures they had in there. I think I might not want LL Bean stuff as much as I once did. I couldn't stop cracking up. Teenie knocked on the door and asked me if I was watching TV in the tub - an idea I've always wanted to make real...maybe one day. But no. It was the catalogue. The clothes are whatever - I'm not really into the fake outdoor look anymore - but the models are hilarious. They're not the hot models in J. Crew or Old Navy or Ralph Lauren that are, 20 and...really...I mean...totally hot. Not them. It's the Oldies that are getting me. I'm finding the mid/late-50'smale model to be a very funny part of the world...one that I had never appreciated before.

Salt and pepper hair is a must, though more pepper than salt is always preferable. Unless, of course, you're playing the grandfather who's taking his grandson hunting, or fishing, or walking in the snow to have a nice long talk about life. 'Established" is the look not "Old". Obviously, a ridiculously square jaw is a prerequisite. You know the guys I'm talking about. Just...for some reason when I was looking at the catalogue, all I could think about was "those guys". Selling "the good life" with a foursome of 50 year olds has started to make me giggle lately.

Those models might make good money, but there's no way they live like that in their actual lives. They don't always dress like that, do they? They're not always frolicking in tuxedos (ties tied..or "untied" perfectly) or roasting chestnuts in cashmere. They can't, I can't imagine, really have villas on the French Riviera, where they spend the winter months tanning and smoking and smiling and drinking.

I picture them having a terrible mortgage on a tiny condo outside of Los Angeles somewhere...and not in the beachy part outside of Los Angeles where everyone should want to be. No, I'mtalking about the other side of town. I'm picturing Mr. Johnny Tan Face taking off that linen suit he doesn't own, putting the Rolex back in the case, getting in his Hyundai, spending two hours in traffic to get back to that condo, getting yelled at by his zinfandel-loaded wife, snorting some kind of something, passing out in his underwear watching "Roseanne"...waking up at 6 in the morning, having really bad diarrhea and maybe throwing up, getting back in the Hyundai, getting back into Los Angeles, putting on a camel hair overcoat, smiling like a millionaire...and doing it all over again. It makes me laugh and cry at the same time. Someone should write an article about those guys. Explain them to me. I'm dying to know. What if one's an actual Duke or something awesome like that. That'd be...incredible...and surprising as all get out. But awesome all the same. Show yourself, Duke of middle-aged modeling. I want to meet you. *We miss you, Clovis!