Genes

Kathy and Lizzie were both in my high school class. What is notable is that they were sisters, a little less than a year apart in age. I never encountered that before or since.

More to the point, they were drop-dead gorgeous, and that doesn’t even begin to describe it. Not even close. I can’t even begin to catalog their attributes, much less the magnitude thereof. Talk about genes, their parents should’ve received the Nobel Prize for art.

A few years ago, at a class reunion, the question came up as to why they weren’t there. Had to.

“They probably porked up and couldn’t bear to be seen as imperfect,” sniffed one of the women, and the other females joined her in an evil snicker. None of the guys laughed.

I did wonder what became of them. It may sound strange, but as good as they looked, I fully expected one or both to pop up into prominence. There are many beautiful women, but not like they were.

As luck would have it, Lizzie bobbed up in my email inbox today. There was a link to her web site and I downloaded the photo at the top of this column. This woman is in her sixties.

Talk about genes.