I did not steal the candy
For a whole week, I have behaved myself, tried to write uplifting material and be non-controversial. It was tough, I may require some therapy, in fact I’m having a glass of therapy right now as I write this. I will preface my remarks with the simple disclaimer that I’m not telling any lies. To stay focused on that, I’ll start by describing my own personal feelings and thoughts. Those may be controversial, they may be upsetting, but they are the truth, usually a truth that we keep to ourselves, unless we’re around other men folk, then those truths fly around the air thicker than the smoke from a west coast firestorm. And as those truths fly around they seem to become polarized like the poles on a magnet, they grow and they attract bullshit, they grow so large that they generally have to be left behind since they really can’t get out the door, and society prefers that they stay sequestered within those “man caves” or locker rooms.
I have to tell you that I love the warm weather, the interminable heat and the melting of the ice caps warm, not so much. Just simple it’s summer time warm weather. One of the things that I truly enjoy is all of the ladies walking around in their short-shorts, daisy dukes, booty huggers, etc. Y’all know what I mean, those enticing extremely short the pockets hang down past the edges and show off a little and sometimes a lot of cheek. I’m a male, red-blooded (although I’m not sure what that means), I’m an animal, I respond to external stimuli, especially if it’s pleasing. Eye candy, and my eyes work fine, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed, I’m just human. It’s a vicarious thrill, a moment in passing, a reminder of my younger days, a reminder of a certain pair of shorts that my wife had once upon a time. I look, I appreciate and I smile, and I move on.
With all of the eye candy, it reminds me of being a kid in a candy store. I never grabbed the candy, I never ate any of the candy without permission or without buying it first. I never took or attempted to take that which wasn’t for me to have. I had manners, I picked what I liked, I took it to the clerk and I paid for it. No matter how fascinating or tempting, there was a process and a procedure, and there was respect.
All of the ladies that I’ve been admiring for all of the years have chosen their own clothing. They decided what they want to wear, where they wanted to wear it, and just how much of their ass they wanted to share with the universe. They and they alone decided just how much candy would be available to my eyes. But, in the case of the Olympic beach volleyball players, they had no choice, they were told by some bunch of misogynists how they were to dress. Of course the men’s team is not required to play in their jock straps. When the tight-assed members of the committee try and defend the choice of clothing based on history, or the way we’ve always done things, it may be time to refresh their memories. According to my reading, the original Olympics were conducted in the nude (it’s a Greek thing). But there were also no women in those Olympics. And the Olympics were founded to elicit competition amongst the best in their sports, the best athletes, they weren’t designed to be political or to give dirty old men a cheap thrill.
So, do we stand on history, do we stand on the spirit and intent? Do we change with the times? If we can add beach volleyball, skateboarding and skeet shooting then obviously we’re changing with the times. We need to change with the times, add the new games, while adhering to the foundational principle of the Olympics as evidenced in their motto “”Citius, Altius, Fortius” (faster, higher, stronger)