Applying ointments and conditioners of various kinds has become an integral part of my day. These ritualistic treatments, which help to allay my many and varied 'conditions,' contribute to my growing sense of my own mortality, as well as the less morbid - yet still very real - sense that life will never quite be the same for me now that I've reached thirty. Oh, come on, you're saying. Get over it. You're only thirty you moron. You're being melodramatic. Maybe so. I have been known to endulge in melodrama time and again. Maybe it's true that I've only reached the smooth, dry outer sand on the beach of middle age, but I can feel the wet stuff calling me closer. Don't we all?

So back to my ointments. Where do I begin? Oh, let's start with my head. That's by far the most complicated spot. First of all, I have a very itchy scalp. 'Psoriasis?' you ask. Probably. 'Flakes?' you inquire. You bet. Basically if I go more than a day and a half without washing my hair, my scalp will itch uncontrollably. And so much in the way of flakes will fall out of my head you'd think it's a wonder that I had any scalp left at all. At times, in certain climates, I have reached near manic levels of itch, have awakened in a sweat, dreaming about the burn. It's a constant part of my being, this itchy head of mine. So most of my ointments have to do with either correcting it or alleviating the symptoms. I have T-Gel Shampoo, Stubburn Itch Formula with a healthy 5-percent Coal Tar Extract. Oh sweet, soothing coal tar. Then there is the T-Gel Conditioner, with . . . my light, my savior . . . Salicyclic Acid . . . 2 percent. As if this were not enough, I also occassionally douse my head with a special Salicylic Acid leave-in formula before going to bed at night. It leaves my hair slightly wet, but feeling clean, and during the night my scalp is rejuvenated, reborn. Not unlike a baptism. I've often wondered if the whole Salicylic Acid drug is actually addictive. Perhaps the whole reason my head itches at all anymore is because it's jonesing for a fix.

So staying with the head, but moving on to a different topic - hair loss. Yes, it runs in my family, on my mom's side. If I take no action, I will probably have a nice bald top in the next 5 to 10 years, much like many of my cousins, and my uncle. I've decided to mount an early defense against this inevitable terror by dropping Minoxidil on my scalp each morning and night. Many of you probably know Minoxidil by it's more common brand name: Rogaine. Ah yes, I have ventured into the unforgiving exercise of desperately trying to preserve my youth. For now, it only amounts to fighting hair loss. In 20 to 30 years I will move on to much tougher campaigns: erectile dysfunction, for instance, maybe even dimentia. (Right now, I'm proud to say, blood flow in my lower extremities is doing alright, though I'm not so sure about up top.) So I will continue with the Minoxidil for a while and see if it helps cut back on the clumps of hair in my bathtub drain that make it look as though I cough up a hairball as a routine part of each shower.

Okay. Enough with the head. Time to move on to my back. (Oh, did I mention that the less hair I grow on my head, the more grows on my back. I know, I know. This is damn sexy stuff, right? Are you turned on yet?) The thing about my back is . . . well, I have the back of a 60-year-old. And it's been this way since I was sixteen. Lately, it's been bugging me quite a bit more than it has over the last 4 years since my surgery. It's hard to remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. I pop various pain and anti-inflammatory pills each night - stuff for arthritis and joint pain. It gets me through, but just barely. Basically, I get about 6 hours sleep before the tightness in my back becomes so unbearable that it forces me out of bed. All this at age 30 - I've got so much to look forward to! Anyway, my newest ointment is made by Bayor, the people who make the aspirin, only it's an analgesic rub. Smells divine, this stuff, and makes our whole apartment reek like some kind of sick menthol orgy.

Now I admit, I'm painting a pretty bleak picture here, and it really isn't that bad. I mean, things could be worse. Moreover, I haven't actually delved into anything weird. For instance, I noticed a guy at the gym the other night rubbing vaseline all over his body before dressing. What use this could possibly have, aside from making him feel like a greased pig (and maybe that's the point, after all) is beyond me. But it made me feel better about my comparatively conservative use of ointments. (Actually, I do admit to once smearing vaseline on my scalp to see if it had an effect on the itch. It only served to make my hair very greasy.)

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