The
Demise of Gluteus Maximus
As I approach year number 75 in my life, I recently
realized there is a part of me that “is not what it used to be.” That part is in a period of demise. It was a part of my anatomy I took for granted for most
of my life and did not fully appreciate its full range of human accoutrements
until the past few years. One of its vital
roles has become increasingly significant.
All humans and most other bipeds are born with one of
these anatomical parts and it serves a similar function for most of them. If you have not already figured this out from the title,
I'm writing about the buttocks,
the two rounded portions of
the anatomy, located on the posterior of the pelvic region of primates.
Before I digress further
into this personal account, permit me to share some salient commentary from
Wikipedia on this amazing anatomical feature."It is comprised of a layer of fat superimposed on the gluteus maximus and gluteus medius muscles. Physiologically, the buttocks enable weight to be taken off the feet while sitting. In many cultures, they play a role in sexual attraction.[1] Many cultures have also used the buttocks as a primary target for corporal punishment,[2] as the buttocks' layer of subcutaneous fat offers protection against injury while still allowing for the infliction of pain. There are several connotations of buttocks in art, fashion, culture and humor, and the English language is replete with many popular synonyms that range from polite colloquialisms ("posterior" or "bottom") to vulgar slang.” Thanks Wikipedia! So now that we’ve all got the picture, let me continue the epic.
During most of my 75
years, this portion of my anatomy has served me well. It has provided relief for my legs and feet
as I sat comfortably on many varied surface conditions, a nice layer of fatty
tissue and muscle providing protection for the nerve tissue and bony pelvis.
Although memory fails
me, I’m sure it provided a nice perch as I sat on my mother’s hip as she
carried me around as an infant. Even
into adulthood as a parent and public-school educator, it provided some comfort
for those long hours on bleachers at football, basketball and baseball
games. And for those of you who remember the “out house” it provided some degree of comfort and insulation from
the cold, hard boards of those memorable early waste treatment facilities.
Although not mentioned by Wikipedia, this anatomical bump has also served as an “anchor point” for
supporting my pants. I would simply
cinch my belt at the waist and my pants would drape securely in that position. Whether walking, stooping, bending,
or squatting, everything stayed in place. Unfortunately, in recent years this
life-long ritual has ceased to work properly.
Most any movement causes my pants to slide down below my buttocks.
Even though “sagging britches” seems to be a
fashion statement of young adults and teens, I find it a great nuisance and a
bit unbecoming for a man approaching age seventy-five. A crescent, quarter or half-moon may be a somewhat
intriguing visual anomaly on a young person, but not on seniors. I’m reminded of my brother-in-law, some ten years
my senior. He encountered this “sagging
britches” phenomenon some years back.
One Sunday he shocked and amused his fellow congregants, as his pants
dropped to his ankles the moment he rose from his kneeling bench to a standing
position, revealing a “full moon” to nearby worshipers.
My concern over this new
phenomenon led to a visual examination of my profile in the bathroom
mirror. A brief ocular examination quickly
revealed that my former rounded bottom now appears virtually flat. A true demise from its former self.
I got to thinking the other day, if Satan had
not tempted Eve in the garden of Eden I would not have this problem. Here's my logic, the Lord in his great omniscient wisdom did
not put clothing on his original creations, they moved about the Garden in
their natural skin. Only after their
disobedience, were their eyes opened and they saw their nakedness. Thus, the Lord in his merciful and benevolent spirit, fashioned the first “fig leaf”
clothing, probably some type of tunic that slipped over their heads and draped
from their shoulders. As time evolved,
some fashionista moved men into pants with a belt and dresses have continued to be the
fashion for female humans for centuries.
Some of our fellow animal bipeds still only wear their natural skin. Of course, they
apparently didn’t eat the forbidden fruit. As a result, their nakedness is not apparent to them and their original God-designed skin still works for them.
Despite my regrets
over Adam and Eve’s error in judgment, the reality is, my pants keep slipping
over my flat butt.
Fortunately for you, an
end to this epic tail seems to be in sight.
Thanks to an invention that dates back some three centuries, “suspenders”
have come to my rescue. There have been several precursors to suspenders throughout the past 300
years, but modern suspenders were first invented around 1820 by Albert Thurston. “Thank you Albert!” Suspenders
were once almost universally worn, due to the high cut of mid-nineteenth and
early twentieth century trousers that made a belt impractical. There is a strong probability there
will be a marked resurgence in the popularity of suspenders as the male Baby
Boomers age into their senior years and experience the demise of Gluteus
Maximus.
Today, I own a pair of black suspenders
for my work pants with hooks that attach to my belt. I have another pair of gray striped ones,
purchased at Tractor Supply that clip to the pants waist band. Both work very well and give me security and
peace of mind as I work around the yard or make shopping trips to town. I know that no matter how much I bend, stoop,
squat, or reach up; my suspenders will not let the moon rise; permitting an an old man to maintain his dignity.
Pondering life
in my idle moments,
Phil Kindred, June 2017
