Before, After, Never

          So I ordered this exercise program, mainly because my darling daughter has signed on as a coach/rep, and she gets credit. The thing actually sounds reasonable, an amalgam of yoga and Pilates, both of which I’ve at least sampled in the past without total humiliation, and I might be able to follow it and the diet advice. Except for the unlimited raw kale. Shudder. In the kit is a flyer for a free t-shirt. Free, that is, in exchange for before-and-after photos. In “form-fitting clothing.” Front view, rear view, side view and a sort of flexed-leg modelish pose. Did I mention the form-fitting clothing? In return for a t-shirt. Ha, say I, not for a thousand t-shirts. Not for the entire world’s supply of t-shirts. My rolls and wrinkles shall remain under wraps, my flab unphotographed. T-shirt, my… well, you know. Offer me a $10,000 New York shopping trip, why don’t you. I might start to consider it. But don’t hold your breath. Now pardon me while I go kick some kale.