A Tragic Condition

I was talking with a co-worker today when somehow the name “Slim Goodbody” came up.  Isn’t it amazing how many things are stored in your brain from the past? The names of Transformers, lines from cartoons, up up down down left right left right B A B A  select start…the list goes on and on.  As soon as the name escaped my lips, I realized that I spent many an hour (or half hour) watching Mr. Goodbody during my formative years. I wondered what he was up to, so I did a search for his name online. Much to my surprise, he is doing quite well, and even has his own website.  

Alas, there is no mention of a Mrs. Goodbody on the site, which got me thinking: how horrible would it be to go through life with your insides showing?  I know, we were all told as children that it was just a suit.  But now that I am older and wiser, I know that it is a horrible condition that Slim was born with. In fact, as far as I know, he is the only person ever born with that condition, which must still baffle his doctors.  What started out as a gimmick and paved his way for a show on Public Broadcasting and the facade of a suit that educates children has now sadly turned him into a one trick pony. On his website, he actually has tour dates.  He has been reduced to renting himself out, like a traveling freakshow, for all the the world to laugh at as they watch digestion in action.  

I feel for him. I really do. Does that mean I want to invite him into my house? Not necessarily.  It seems that the conversation would center on a certain something.

Me: So…I can see your internal organs.

Him: Yep.  Wow, look at the time.

It has to put a dent in his social life. Thankfully, his recent pictures show him sans awkward white man 70’s fro a la Leo Sayer.  But if there is one thing my grandmother has taught me, it is that to move past a certain stage in a relationship, your intestines should not be showing. 

Ah, Slim.  Good to see you are still around.  I hope the celebate life treats you well.