Today I got the third pedicure of my life. It was a celebration, as well as a realization that I love getting pedicures, and so do my feet. I go to a Korean pedicurist in Saratoga Springs.

There is no one anything like me in the shop, and the staff chuckles and smiles when I ask them to put Maria’s name on my toe or draw a flower, as I did today.

I was the only man in the parlor and the oldest person. I am always the only man and the oldest person when I go.

They know me now and think I’m kind of cute, like some adopted old Teddy Bear somebody rescued from a garbage dump.

They also do a great job, the rubbing and massaging are music to my feet, and I am somewhat surprised to realize I love having my toenails painted. The foot massage is pretty sweet also.

One reader suggested I get to know  Ru Paul. (I love Ru Paul and am wedded to her Netflix show, A.J., And The Queen), she wonders if I have a trans streak. Although she wasn’t trying to be friendly,  I can’t say I hate the idea.

When I stood up to move over to the toe dryer, the staff rushed over to support me on either side and make sure I didn’t fall over. I had to reassure them that I was able to walk. They are terrified I might fall.

The 10-foot walk was not challenging.

Today I had my final check-up of the year with Dr. Pamela Daly, who masterminded the prolonged treatment, surgery, and healing of my foot.

I have enormous respect for her, and today, she even lightened up a bit and chatted with me about the Christmas holidays. She doesn’t do small talk; she does excellent medicine.

Today, she warmed up after seven months, and we talked about books, kids, holidays, and old inns in Vermont (where Maria and I are going Friday night.) I brought two Amish pies, two bags of Peanut Butter cookies, and two boxes of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls.

I wanted to mark Christmas and also thank Dr. Daly and her amazing staff; they were much nicer to me than they had to be. The staff was shocked and very grateful, it was just before lunch.

I find you get what you give. If I am cheerful and pleasant, the people treating me are apt to be as well. Giving them some neat Christmas treats made all of us feel good.

They made this long and sometimes painful process as pleasant as possible. It was my obligation to acknowledge that.

This was a year of unrelenting health care, and all of it has made me healthier, more mobile, better rested, and lighter. I feel good about it and grateful. I am working on myself and getting good results.

Last night, I slept for 7 hours wearing my c

No one speaks much English in the pedicure parlor, so the pedicure is primarily silent, except for taps, grunts, and gestures. None of the women getting their nails done to look at me or speak with me.

I never know the name of the pedicurist, and we don’t do small talk. When I look around, I mostly see wealthy women – Saratoga Springs is an affluent town – who never speak to their pedicurists or acknowledge them.

I try to talk to them, but it’s difficult; the language barrier is strong. This is the first time I’ve gone to get the pedicure alone. Maria says she wants to come the next time. I felt very comfortable; I closed my eyes at one point and almost went to sleep wearing my CPAP mask, the longest I can ever remember sleeping in my life.

I asked my pedicurist to paint a flower on each big toe, and she understood and did a beautiful job. When I got home, Maria took this photo; she says she loves it; it’s an excellent color for me and a beautiful piece of toe art.

I can report that pedicures are not a permanent part of my life, even I am strange for loving them. I realize that much of my life is like this; I am always doing things other men do not do and not doing things other men do.

On the way out of the parlor, I kept my shoes off and wore paper sandals from the parlor to give my flowers time to dry. Two Marine recruiters walked out of the recruiting station next door and looked down at my feet, and blinked. “Good afternoon, sir, ” said the tall and lean Marine sergeant.

The corporal next to him was pretty wide-eyed.

There are some benefits to being old, I thought.

Being different is just who I am; it’s time for me t  get over it. The truth is I love my painted toe and will smile every time I see it.