Picking on Michael Phelps

bong_gifMichael Phelps smoked some marijuana.   That’s right.  Hard to believe isn’t it, that a 23 year-old man actually huffed some grass through a bong.   But, nevertheless, there you are.   The record breaking winner of an unprecedented eight Olympic gold medals sometimes likes to toke down a bowl.

For this, Kellogg will not renew his contract.   Kellogg, founded in the nineteenth century by renowned nut job and corn flakes manufacturer,  John Harvey Kellogg, will allow Phelps’ contract to expire, which is due to happen  shortly.   If you think Kellogg, the man, was just another cereal guy, read his writings sexuality and the ways to prevent masturbation, install cages around the organs, and what he deemed as other nasty habits.    I think most agree that his recommendation he apply carbolic acid to the clitoris in order to prevent sexual arousal is just a wee bit over the top.  You can think that one over when you chow down on your next bowl of Corn Flakes.

Subway, on the other hand, will stand by the star swimmer, perhaps let a little time transpire before using Phelps to promote their sub sandwiches.    I suppose the powers that be at Subway assume the public will be forgiving for Phelps’ great transgression.  That or they will attract the stoner crowd who after a few bong hits of their own will get the munchies and march on down for the foot long special

By comparison, Bernard Madoff just took off his trusting clients for something like $50 Billion, one of a number of Ponzi schemes beginning to surface.   Madoff ruined people, took every last dime, stole their retirement money, and ripped off foundations and charities.   Considering also, that there are those in Wall Street on just drove the country into the ground, who also ruined retirement funds and countless businesses, Michael Phelps’ great transgression seems to pale by comparison.

I am not one to do drugs, nor am I one to promote them.   I do, however, believe we should strive to retain a sense of proportion, and with the nation suffering from economic recession, this is no time to nullify our heroes for something this inconsequential, or, for that matter, something so common.   If anything, we should suppress a yawn, rather than demonstrate our righteous indignation.
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Millions of people in this country smoke grass.  We can rail about it, thump our  self-righteous doctrines all day long, but at the end of that day a good many younger people will join a good many older people in taking a hit on their favorite bong.   In places like California, if smoking marijuana isn’t legal, it is about as close as you can be without a full declaration.   Over all, except for places where the ever vigilant South Carolina sheriff who has threatened to prosecute Michael Phelps for his heinous acts, nobody really cares much about who is smoking marijuana.

But yet we have another big stink, and the stink clouds one of our greatest sports performers, not in a sweet and funky haze of grass, but over something that perhaps could have been ignored.    Granted, Phelps was stupid for smoking and risking his endorsements.   But he is a kid, after all, and if kids don’t have the latitude to be at least somewhat foolish, then who does?

As for Kellogg, if it had any sense it would let the matter pass and continue to use Phelps as its spokesman.  Perhaps it is its heritage that keeps it from doing so.   Perhaps having a sexually repressed individual who was phobic about smoking, drinking, just about everything but corn flakes, peanut butter and enemas, can prevent an evolved company from perceiving how little the bong hit matters to the world.

In fact, it may even be prudent for Kellogg or some other company to feature Phelps on the cover of its package, bong in hand.  There is a strong enough demographic, a target market, if you will, to make a case for a more liberal minded presentation.   Perhaps they would see even more cereal in a down market.   That would be something.  Just think what it may do to their thinking.   They might even need a bong hit, just to come down from the shock.

Metal Jewelry Piercings Hazardous in Cold Weather

Slovenian Media has recommended to the German Meteorological Institute they should warn those with jewelry body piercings that the metal can freeze and cause them harm in this extreme and unusually cold European winter.   The metal rings can freeze, causing harm to the body parts they are adorning.   So I guess the bottom line is don’t go out with your nipple rings.   Or some such thing.

Upon reading this article, or warning, I am reminded of the proverbial kid who in freezing weather just had to stick his tongue on the metal flagpole.   LIke Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby, his tongue would stick to the freezing steel, until either the fire department or an alert school teacher could free him from the imprisonment.   Of course, having heard about it, or having read it somewhere, our mothers would admonish us against testing out our own tongues against any frozen piece of metal.
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Now with so many people partaking in piercings, it is small wonder that such a warning was necessary.  You have the previously mentioned nipple rings, the earrings, nose rings, tongue studs and studs down a littel further in the anatomy.   I have to wonder what does the hapless soul do for groceries when he or she has had implants, that is either ball bearings, studs or whatever pieces of metal implanted under the skin.  Usually these pieces are planted in some sensitive regions, be it the penis, scrotum, clitoris, or in a lovely encirclement of the vagina.   I guess the tattoo and piercing artist never advised them about implants and cold weather.

I would think if you freeze up there, you may be truly frozen in your sex life for quite some time to come.  There is frostbite and then again there is this kind of frostbite.   I suppose it is the price we pay for our personal vanities.   Whatever form it takes.

Economic Meltdown, When You Finally Get the Memo

The economic meltdown came so fast and so furiously, most of us weren’t sure how to even reaction.   With the markets plummeting, housing prices on a steep decline and people getting laid off left and right, we were left with mixtures of anger and grief.  To at least some degree, life as we knew it was over.

What I mean by this is that most of us having been living over our heads for years.   We all believed we deserved certainly luxuries, everything from the pricey wines to the trendy wardrobes.   Men were having their shirts custom made, and women just had to have the bag of the season.  Designer, shoes, suits, shirts, dining out,  lavish vacations, were no longer anything special but just another part of our regimen.

We made money and then we borrowed more.   We bought houses that were way over our heads, automobiles that offered status but at a very high cost.  We leased cars we couldn’t afford.   We took lavish vacations, ate out in cutsey restaurants.  We bought gourmet food and fine wine.   We were massaged on a regular basis.  We went nightclubbing and sat around over expensive vodka and a bowl of caviar, playing with our electronic gadgets.  We actually thought that none of it would end.
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And then it did.   Now it’s time to tell ourselves and our families that life as we knew it has at least temporarily been put on hold.   The level of disbelief is considerable.  Husbands and wives are fighting.  The childen, spoiled from years and indulgence, simply can’t believe they have to cool it with the designer jeans and trips to the maill.   As for the gourmet foods, it’s the big box store for most of us.   Restaurants?   Yes, some of the top of the line steak joints are still doing well, as are the lower priced coffee shop.   As for that cute little storefront bistro. let’s just say it’s rare that you need reservations.

So after all those years of indulgence, the bottom has now fallen out of the economy.   It’s a bitter pill to swallow.   A sad but unique experience.   Ironic that it comes at such a price.

Sex and the Christmas Season

Nobody likes to be alone.   At least most people don’t like being alone.   Especially over the Holiday Season.   Even more especially during over the Holiday Season during a rotten economy.   Because there is nothing like the Holiday Season to make your being alone feel really, truly lonely.

It’s shopping alone for gifts for friends and family but not for a special lover or significant other.  It’s tough knowing that families are coming together, lovers coming together, and  you are either going alone to Holiday OParties, seeing the family, or watching TV with a quart of seasonal egg nog that you can only share with your cat.

Small wonder that during the holiday season sex becomes a major factor.   Reports and studies will tell you so.   Single folk have the wandering eye.  People feel romantic, want to be intimate.  With someone.  Even, at times, if it is wrong.   The alcohol ingested during the holiday seaon only serves to fan those flames.   Normal restraint can go by the wayside.   If nothing else, hot sex on a cold night is one of the better ways to pass the time.

I wrote some years back about how I noticed women in particular look at you differently during the holiday season.  There is that certain glint in their eyes.   They flirt both subtly and overtly.   You are a prospect, and the holiday season can be overwhelming.   All that sentiment, so much nostalgia floating about, it is small wonder people are looking for a date, someone to do something with.

And then I suppose there is the consideration of family life.   Most of us are around families, sometimes more than we care to be.   But we are there nevertheless.   In an economic downturn it is, for better or for worse, one of the constants, the sense of intimacy and understanding, coupled of course with the usual neuroses and jealousies.   We start think about perpetuating that famiily life.   Which means having kids of our own.  Which means having sex.   What better way to have sex than for a worthy cause, the perpetuationof life as we know it.
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So here we are in the midst of another holiday season.  A good many of us don’t have the bucks to go anywhere, so we are stuck in our very own version of reality.   We are up to here in snow in a particularly cold season.  Even the west coast is experiencing a chill.   That is a chill for the west coast.   So there isn’t much of an escape.   Even our shopping this year is probably limited.  Gifts?  don’t expect many.  Still, we must do what we must.

Well, not all that long ago in this country, most people didn’t visit St. Bart’s for holiday vacation.   They didn’t go much of anywhere.   They stayed where they were, hung out with friends and family.   Went to parties.   They had a few drinks, and they had sex.

Well here we are back to go in some ways.  We are a different country, but we are facing economic restrictions.   We can be drinking at parties, but we are a much more sober country.   So much for having a field day on our credit cards or home equity loans.

But we can still get together.  We can still couple.  We can still have sex.  It’s free.  Well, most of the time.

Democracy for 99 Cents

In most cities you can find one or two places that are in their own way models of democratic activity.   I am not talking about voting, or democratic activity with a big “D.”  Instead I am point to the unique qualities of a certain location where people from all walks of life come together on a regular basis.

Sports stadiums were once the obvious examples.   But the venues are so large anymore they really don’t lend themselves to the sense that it is all one crazy melting pot of people from mixed ethnic backgrounds and economic classes.  In fact, sports venues over the years have become increasingly exclusive, with the advent of skyboxes.  Then a notch or two below the sky boxes, sports fans  in pricey seats are given access to eateries and sports clubs forbidden to hoi polloi.   All while those in the cheap seats are relegated to the hot dog and beer stands or the fast food franchises.

But in cities like Philadelphia there are the steak sandwich joints in South Philly where people from all walks of life stand around, munching foot long sandwiches as hot cheese burns the roof of your mouth and hot steak grease runs down your arm.   Be it a hot summer night or a cold winter day, there is a line.  Same thing with Titos in Los Angeles.   People  from everywhere line up until midnight for cheap tacos.   Pink’s in Hollywood, has patient lines of hot dog buyers.   Immigrants, movie stars, rock and rollers, regular Joe’s, all waiting through the night for their turn at the hot dogs.

South Philadelphia had Levis’ Hot Dogs where the parking lot was a mix of junkers and Jaguars.   Businessmen and professionals sat at communal tables with truck drivers, chomping down on what was one of the better hot dogs in the western world.  It was more than food; it was a tradition with water stained posters listing the members of the 20, 30 and 50 year clubs, respectively.  Parents took their kids and as the tradition had it pointed out what was the oldest working soda fountain in the USA.   There they served Champ Cherry Soda, a drink all to its own.

But that is gone, a victim of someone’s idea of gentrification.   Levis’ is not the only victim.  There are places of similar tradition around the country that have been lost to the franchised world and overpriced storefront bistros.   Chicago has its places.  New York.  Name the city and there is always someone to list the places.   Even if the list gets smaller every year.

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But with the economy as rotten as it is, the parking lot has taken on a whole new visage.   Broken down junkers are mixed with the German and Japanese thoroughbred motors so prominent in Southern California.   People in funky threads, mix it up with people who are dressed in the latest fashion.  Supercuts meets Umbertos of Beverly Hills, and the thing is no one seems to care.   A bargain is a bargain.

So there is a perfect cross section of much of the country, well, Southern California in this case, anyway, pushing baskets up the narrow aisles and plucking items from the well stocked shelves.   There are men alone, single women, married couples, dates, winos,  and of course the proverbial couple who just moved in together and debate in every aisle over what they need for their new arrangement.   It’s cute, really, in an obnoxious sort of way.

But the point is, they come from everywhere to visit any one of what seem like thousand stores in the city.  With some of the more affluent shoppers you can determine how new they are to the experience by the way they navigate the store.  The experience shoppers tend to breeze through, while the novices stop and examine every item.  Why not?  I mean where else do you have open access to everything from frozen food to colored condoms?   Where else can you find the $20 reading glasses you saw a year ago in the department store for 99 Cents?   Tools.  Eggs.  Notebooks.  Toothpaste and furniture polish.

So democracy has returned  as the mixed income bargain seekers all wait patiently in the cashier’s line for a recent immigrant to check out their items.  Twenty things.  Twenty bucks.  Plus tax, of course.   People pay in cash; people pay with credit cards.   People  are there who have always needed to watch their budget.  And people who had really no budget at all.

The whole interaction is surprising orderly.   You don’t really experience the usual rancor you find in a great many Southern California parking lots.  Perhaps the economic meltdown has everyone in shock and not in the mood to do battle over a parking space.  Talk about shock and awe.  But the orderly aspect in interesting all to itself.   A true democracy may be messy, but there is order.  More importantly there is respect for the other individual, even if it is grudging or even obscure respect.   The meltdown, like the larger earthquakes and other disasters hasn’t resulted in chaos and a breakdown in order.   If anything, order, like water has found its own workable level.   For less than a buck.