Ugly is the New Beautiful

Suddenly, I'm in big demand. My publicist is calling. I'm being chased by the paparazzi and women are slipping me room keys. The source of this unexpected good fortune is the The Nature Channel. They recently aired an episode called "The Beauty of Ugly." The show graphically demonstrates why creatures like the Naked Mole Rat and my friend Jim have dating troubles.

Apparently, bulbous noses and red rear ends, swollen neck folds, fleshy tentacles and hairless skin have become an aphrodisiac. It's like the Elephant Man has become the new Elvis (The Viva Las Vegas Elvis, not the expando-gut 70's Elvis). Sure, beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but even the most benevolent beholder has to cover a wince when he gets an eyeful of the star-nosed mole.

Take a good look. This isn’t the face that's likely to become the next Beanbag Baby. Chances you won’t see this mole on a corporate motivational poster with the caption “Hang in There.”  But hey, there’s good news -- Mother Nature has blessed moles with incredibly poor vision to insure that their Honeymoon Night won’t be a complete disaster. 

The BakerMuse Department of Dubious Zoology has ferreted out some the creatures that, well, aren’t going to end up in a swanky photo shoot for People Magazine’s Most Beautiful issue. In the interests of full disclosure, I must say I’m not going to make that cover either.  (See archives – Aging Disgracefully)

 
The Turkey

Normal Rockwell has immortalized the turkey in his paintings – but it’s the roasted and stuffed version. This turkey has that George Hamilton glow and a kind of voluptuous plumpness that makes even a vegetarian green with envy.  

The real turkey is another story. Turkeys are from genus Meleagris – which roughly translated means butt ugly. They have a distinctive fleshy carbuncle that hangs from the beak, called a snood. The fleshy protuberance attached to the underside of the beak is known as a "wattle" or in some circles as the " William F. Buckley Jr. or the "Rosie."

The Vulture

The vulture is Nature’s janitor. He only needs a chain full of useless keys. Basically, the vulture waits until a carcass has become so vile even the entire insect world takes a pass.  The vulture is notoriously patient – he circles the prospective meal like my last flight into O’Hare.  Is there anything this creature won’t eat?  Does he ever say, “eeeww, liver?

The vulture looks faintly like “Junior” on the Sopranos.  And the kind of feathers Bjork wore to the Academy Awards. Frankly,  I don’t think a modeling career is an option.








The Vampire Bat

If this is the kind of creature I’m going to meet in Hell, I’m converting to any religion that will have me.  He’s got the Robin Williams’ wet, hairy back and what looks like a ceramic-butter dish super glued to his nose.  Add the Dracula teeth and satellite-sized ears and you’ve got all the ingredients of a nightmare of epic proportions.