“Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?”

Yes, The Beatles classic tune When I’m Sixty-Four, which was written by Paul McCartney as a teenager and immortalized by the group on the album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band when the “cute one” was a mere twenty-four years old, came true just a few years ago. On June 18, 2006 Sir Paul turned 64 years old, and the famous line written by then rebellious Pete Townsend of The Who in the same year – “I hope I die before I get old” – became more and more irrelevant. Paul and Pete seem to be aging pretty well for two old geezers who respectively lost ten billion dollars in a divorce settlement and got busted for “researching” kiddie porn.

I don’t know about you, but when I was twenty-four years old, I thought that anyone in their sixties was a downright antique. But now the age of 64 doesn’t seem quite as old (or far away), and I know many sixty-plus year olds (or thereabouts) who are incredibly youthful. It certainly is different than the sixty-four of even a generation ago. (Talkin’ ‘bout my g-g-g-generation.)

One difference between youth and middle age seems to be the way that the open-mindedness and optimism of our twenties tends to decay into cynicism and ambivalence as we grow older. Add to that all of the internet scams and rumors that are so pervasive these days and, well, I have to admit that I really don’t believe anything I hear or see anymore. Which brings us to a somewhat personal story.

A couple of years ago, I noticed a small wart on my upper lip. It wasn’t like a huge dripping honker that would cause people on the subway to point and giggle, but it was still somewhat annoying, and realizing that it probably wouldn’t look too appetizing on those sixteen by sixteen foot screens at our upcoming Vegas seminar (which was just a few months away) I decided to do something about it.

After quite a bit of begging, pleading, cajoling, and sweet talking the receptionist at my dermatologist’s office, I was actually able to get an appointment a few weeks away. Apparently, my dermatologist is so fantastic that one cannot actually get an appointment with her. This seems to be the major status symbol in medicine.

“My doctor is so great, I have to wait three months for an appointment.”

“Well, my doctor is even BETTER, because I have to wait six months just to come in for a ‘look-see’.“

“Sorry – I’ve got that beat. My doctor is so incredibly amazing, no one can actually get an appointment. As a matter of fact, I’m not positive that he exists, but everyone says he is the best!”

So anyway, I managed to get in, and after a quick examination, I was told what I already knew – I had a wart on my lip. She said that the best route would be a surgical wartectomy, and offered to perform this procedure as her schedule allowed. So I figured that since I was going to have to wait an inordinate amount of time anyway, I may as well wait to see a plastic surgeon instead of a dermatologist. After all, we’re talking about holding a knife to your face (or I just could have wandered over to downtown Baltimore, where that happens on a regular basis).

So okay – the day finally comes to see this very fine plastic surgeon, who is used to sculpting breasts and tummies, sucking pounds of fat out of lady’s thighs, and making everyone look like Joan Rivers, and there I am with my tiny little lip wart, which he proceeded to beautifully remove in all of ten seconds, leaving no scar and what looked to be a beautiful result.

The problem with warts of course, is that they are caused by a virus, and no matter how beautiful the removal, they do tend to have a reoccurrence problem. So of course in the middle of the busy Madow Brothers World Tour my little friend (who I had nicknamed “Wharton”) decided to return for an encore. Oh – what to do, what to do?

I somehow managed to get an appointment right away with my Doctor Of Skinology (someone must have had the gall to cancel at the last minute. Actually, that’s impossible. Maybe someone died.). She confirmed that yes, Wharton had returned, but since I had the plastic surgeon remove him the first time, I should go back there instead.

With the feeling that I was being punished, I called his office, where after about ten minutes his receptionist came back on the phone and told me that since it was a wart (no duh!) I should see a dermatologist. Can’t say I blame him – if I were a plastic surgeon I probably wouldn’t get out of bed for less than ten grand, or at least the chance to do something really cool like sew up someone’s forehead or do something involving boobies.

Okay – so back on the merry-go-round again, but this time I wasn’t so lucky. I guess no one died, or at the very least became gravely ill, and the next dermo appointment wasn’t available for months.

Desperation was now setting in – I had a bunch of meetings and seminars coming up and really didn’t want to bring Wharton along. So where does one turn these days when they don’t know what else to do? Of course – that source of knowledge and information that is always guaranteed to be 100% accurate – that’s right –

The Internet!!!

Wow – what an onslaught of information!! I learned more about warts than I ever wanted to know, and was especially amazed at the amount of remedies that my finely trained physicians never even told me about! My favorite of the bunch was surely “Duct Tape Occlusion Therapy,” where you just rub your wart with an emery board and cover it with duct tape for six days, upon which point your wart does what everything else secured with duct tape does – falls off.

Sure – it sounded quite tempting, but I couldn’t quite fathom walking around with duct tape on my lip for six hours let alone six days, and then, what happens if it doesn’t work? Do you switch to WD-40? After all, a handyman once told me that the only things you need in your tool kit are duct tape and WD-40, saying,

“If it’s supposed to move and doesn’t – WD-40. If it moves and isn’t supposed to – duct tape.”

Sure makes sense to me! So after spending hours of reading about miracle cures and looking at disgusting before and after pictures, I eliminated all of the candidates except for one that just seemed to be calling my name – that’s right – “The World’s Only 20 Minute Single Application Wart Removal System” –

Wart Mole Vanish!!

After all, it was safe, 100% natural, and had no side effects! Now how could you beat that? So I forked my eighty bucks over (no insurance coverage here!) and a few days later a little jar with a few implements arrived right to my mailbox. Wow – this was sure easier than going to a real doctor!!

Okay – so here’s the procedure. First I had to wash Wharton with a sterilizing liquid (which strangely resembled water) and then scrape him with a little thing that looked like a sewing needle to open up the pores. Next came the application of the Wart Mole Vanish Cream – a white pasty substance that had to be applied very carefully lest it should touch the skin around the affected area. Ouch – it burned like hell, and even though no sizzling sounds could be heard, twenty minutes later when I washed the cream off Wharton looked like he had been set on fire. After that, I didn’t have to do anything but wait.

Now here’s the amazing thing. About four days later (sooner than promised) Wharton shriveled up and fell off faster than an 80 year old coming down from Viagra, with absolutely no scar, spot, or any other sign of his past presence. It was actually quite impressive. Months have passed, and the area looks completely beautiful. Could this stuff be the real deal? It just may be so. So why don’t physicians recommend it? I’m not really sure. I’m definitely not the type to believe in conspiracy theories (i.e. physicians don’t recommend this because it will cut into their business), but the fact is, everybody has their niche of knowledge and nobody knows everything.

Nevertheless, I am still extremely cynical about so many of the products, supplements, pharmaceuticals, nutraceuticals, etc. that are out there these days, even though whoever is hawking them can always manage to bore you with eight thousand studies done at “leading research institutions” proving why their particular snake oil is the best. I’m even more cautious about products that are sold via multi-level marketing (or as some like to call it – “network marketing”). After all, if they are so great, why aren’t they available through traditional channels?

However, sometimes no matter how much of a skeptic one may be, in times of desperation (which is how I felt with Wharton) you may be willing to try some things that you wouldn’t ordinarily do – and maybe even be happy with the results. In this case, I did, and learned along the way that maybe it’s okay to open one’s mind just a bit in an area where they once refused. You may just be amazed what can happen!