Inspired by Richard Perle, I decided to treat myself to a nice, long reflection. I went into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

I said, “Mirror, please show me my true reflection.”

Nothing. Just the image of some random white guy.

Then I remembered the old rhyme: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s got the best reflection of all of them?”

And sure enough — SNAP! — just like that, the mirror offered up my reflection:

A man, wide-eyed with wonder; a few wrinkles around the mouth; a gray hair here and there; a piece of broccoli (OK, a whole floret) stuck in my teeth; a chin that really should jut out more, if I ever want to get this whole “Bicycle-Helmet Model” career off the ground.

The reflection may not be pretty, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.

As the old-timers say, “Beauty is as beauty does, but ugly goes straight to your bones.” In other words, “Homegirl, you look ugly and you might have bone cancer.” (Worst oncologist ever?)