The Billy Joel Effect

[elfs]

So there's this guy in one of my programming groups that I go to from time to time who, for lack of a better word in English, is a schlump. I've never seen him better than half-shaven, hair unkempt, shirt untucked. He wears a worn denim jacket with tassels that went out of style back when Michael Knight was still cruising the truckstop restrooms of America with the former governor of New Jersey. His jeans have holes in them.

The other night his wife came by to pick him up after the meeting was over. She's an f'ing Hegre girl (NSFW)! I don't mean that in the sense than she's been in front of the camera, but by the Invisible Pink Unicorn (BBHHH) she should be. Tall, willowy, blonde, gorgeous, clothes impeccably stylish, with librarian-fetish glassses. Cheekbones of doom!

I just don't get the whole Billy Joel Effect. (Come to think of it, there's nothing remarkably creative about this fellow either that I know of. He's a middling-level ruby coder.) It makes me think this whole goin'-to-the-gym thing isn't going to help. What's the point of being in good shape if it doesn't matter? Live slow, die old, and leave a good-looking corpse doesn't quite have the same ring, ne?

Comments

[ewhac.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I occasionally witness the same thing myself and it almost always honks me off. The phrase that most often enters my mind is, "What the hell's wrong with me?"