So sad, just when I was thinking about becoming a Matador (Matadoressa?) it appears that the art of the bullfight is circling the drain. Tis the twilight of the matadors, ah me.

Which, of course, probably is a good thing. Not only for the bull, but for those of us with such aspirations. 

Really, have you considered how you'd look in those outfits? Toreador pants are leggings without the benefit of knee high boots. And, the bolero jacket. Sparkly or otherwise it just doesn't flatter the body. It's too short to cover any waistline bulges that might make their presence known after a paella and sangria lunch. 

I strongly suggest if one is going to pick a sport to participate in, then one should take some serious note of the accompanying outfit.

Which explains, other than a profound fear of panicking and drowning, why I don't scuba dive. Lloyd Bridges looked good in a wet suit. Most others, don't. Even if I could make do with the suit, the hood and goggles look is simply not flattering. My hair and eyes, you see, are my best features.

Fly fishing is a good one. A simple shirt and slacks accompanied by a humongous pair of waders held by suspenders, while not a fashion statement, does seem to leave the body image intact.

I will continue to consider my options. 

Bowling, badminton and shuffleboard are, right now, high on my list.