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Since I always include my e-mail address with my columns, occasionally one of my intensely ambivalent readers will write to comment on what I have written.
Sometimes the letters are better than the columns.
Recently two columns drew more than the usual commentary, leading me to believe that of the topics with which I have tangled, readers are particularly interested in feet and breasts. The interest seems to be divided along gender lines.
“Welcome to our world,” college-friend Sandra greeted me after she read my account of my first pedicure.  Other ladies welcomed me as well.
My all-the-way-back-to-high school buddy Carolyn, a retired nurse, went a step further and advised me that “cared for feet and toes are essential to health and well being, especially as we age.”
Carolyn’s observation was seconded by another college friend, Linda, who added that “Medicare will pay for a podiatrist to clip your toenails once a quarter,” information that we people of a certain age need to know.  However, she added, that while I might find a copy of Field and Stream in the Doctor’s office, I should not expect a vibrating chair, a choice of beer or wine, and a massage like the one my pedicurist provided.
Some guys wrote to tell me that they, too, had taken the pedicure plunge, while others, like Jimmy, were “under pressure” but “holding out.”  I got the feeling from some that they fear that my revelation will strengthen their wives’ resolve to get them in the chair to be clipped and caressed.  Apparently I did not make it sound so bad, for their resistance seemed to be crumbling.
Up in Philly, my friend Teresa told of how her significant other turned his pedicure into a political statement when he got pink polish during Breast Cancer Awareness month.
Talk about secure masculinity!
Meanwhile, higher on the anatomy, the subject of breasts and Breastaurants also drew comment.
A number of men sang the praise of Hooters, though more for the scenery than the menu.  They were not as familiar with Twin Peaks and Tilted Kilt, but were eager to learn.
Women commented as well, and in their letters was more than a hint of understanding (or maybe resignation) that “boys will be boys.”
Once again Linda (whose experience is vast and whose knowledge encyclopedic) was able to look at the broader picture.
It seems that the daughter of a friend was “doing quite well financially working at Hooters.”
However, when the lovely lass tried to write off “her augmentation surgery as a business expense,” the IRS would have none of it. Now is that fair?
The captains of industry can write off all sorts of things, while a working girl can’t get a break.
On the bright side, she did win a regional Hooters Bikini Contest, so (Linda observed) “it must not have been a total waste.”
Then there was Eileen, who wondered how much research I put into the Breastaurants project, and Rick, who felt that I should put in more.
Rick saw in the undertaking “a grand opportunity for a sequel to your Redneck Riviera study,” perhaps a demographic analysis of “who works in and patronizes these places.” He suggested I call it Twin Peaks With An Ocean View.
Meanwhile correspondent James observed that “opportunity does indeed knock. Oftentimes with knockers.”
Yes, it does.
More post-column comments came in when the news broke that out in Texas a couple of “Biker Gangs” shot it out in and around Twin Peaks, Waco’s popular Breastaurant.
While pedicures are good for your well-being, old friend Gerald observed that the Waco incident shows that Breastaurants  “can be dangerous to your health.”
He has a point.
Maybe Breastaurants should post a warning that if the parking lot is full of Harleys, customers might want to keep driving.
On the other hand, the bikes might belong to lawyers and bankers who like to ride and who have figured out a way to write off wings and beer on their taxes.
On the other, other hand, customers might want to void them as well. In their own way, lawyers and bankers can be as dangerous as the “Bandidos” and “Cossacks.”
Then the thought came to me, what if I opened a Breastaurant that offers pedicures?
The Health Department might have some concerns, but they let gas stations sell pizza and fried chicken, so the bar is set pretty low. Get your checkbook out. Time to invest in “Ta Tas and Toes.” Or maybe “Toe-Ta-Tas?” Either sounds like a winner to me. You’re welcome.
Harvey H. (“Hardy”) Jackson III is Professor Emeritus at Jacksonville State University in Jacksonville, Alabama. He can be reached at hjackson@cableone.net.

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