I don’t want this to sound like hitting below the belt, but two stories I read today concentrate themselves in that area of a gentleman’s anatomy. One story is ice cold and one is geared toward fun in the sun.
The first story came from the cold winter of Laramie, Wyoming. It seems as if two guys were arraigned and pled not guilty to obscenity charges. They were accused of building a snow phallus in their front yard and it offended their neighbors. Now, I don’t know dick about art, but I know what I like and I don’t particularly like to see phalli poking up out of the virgin snow. I don’t know who was the model who posed for these young artists, but he should be ashamed. And the artists, themselves, should have picked better subject matter. Perhaps, it was a self-portrait, and, if so, one must admire the young man for being able to keep his pose in the cold Wyoming temperatures.
The story goes on to say that the evidence was destroyed, apparently by some angry neighbor who probably remembered Exodus 20, verse 4, which says, “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image.” I’m just wondering if the young men’s lawyers will get them off by claiming the case was based on hearsay evidence.
“If my client did wrong, then show me the shlong!”
“If you can’t produce the wiener, then there’s no misdemenor.”
“If there’s no cold phallus, then where is the malice?”
In our neighborhood there are a number of kids who are always up to something and I’m sure when they hear the story of the snow penis they will try to do the same thing. Fortunately, there won’t be any snow here for another eight months at the earliest, so we can assume they will forget all about it by then, and society will survive.
All I can say to the guys in Wyoming is that they should keep their minds on something else, rather than the erection of icy monuments in celebration of their own phallic pride and running the risk of being coldcocked by one of their angry neighbors.
The other story comes from Cape May, New Jersey. It appears there has been a law on the books there for thirty years banning Speedos, and the law has been repealed. On the surface ones first reaction is that this is one good law that should have remained in force and that it is a sign that we are descending that slippery slope into godlessness and lawlessness. While Jimbo himself wore a green Speedo back in the sixties, he then had a physique that lent itself more to that sort of attire. If Jimbo wore a Speedo today, it would be a horrible thing to have to see. Even back in the sixties, though, someone should have said to me:
“Put some clothes on, dude.”
Upon further inspection of the origin of the law, we find that it was initially enacted due to complaints about gay men who wore Speedos on the beach. I guess that gay bashing isn’t just a modern phenomenon. The director of the local gay advocacy organization in Cape May said the law had no real significance to gays and that they would wear whatever they wanted to, anyway. Apparently the law has not been enforced for decades, it appears.
I think that if you’re swimming the anchor in the 4 X 100 meter relay, then Speedos are appropriate. If you’re not, wear something with a little more fabric—if you are male, that is.
Seeing guys wearing Speedos in the summer and seeing erections in the snow in the winter are not our idea of fine art.
At least, here in Jimbo’s world, anyway.
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