In The Arena
There exist misguided souls in the universe who will try to convince us that watching a sports event on television is now de rigueur, a far better alternative than a costly trip to the stadium with its inflated ticket prices, inconvenient parking and nosebleed seats. Television, after all, brings you close up and personal with its batteries of cameras, slo-mo reruns and brilliant analysts, who will first tell you what a terrible call has been made by the game officials, then reverse themselves in short order when the replay cameras reveal the truth.
But there is no pre-game hubbub on TV, no bumping into old friends unmet for a month of Saturdays, no tailgate parties or dancing Hare Krishnas or bands playing fight songs or beautiful women in very short shorts. There is little cameraderie in the living room to compare with rooting home the local boys with a row full of best friends you just met. At the recent Florida-Tennessee football game, the man in the seat next to ours was a doctor who had just sold his large practice in Tampa and retired….this was his first game at Florida Field in 26 years. He was significantly overweight, had poor balance and struggled to his seat and back. When it came time to stand, his legs shook and I had to reach under his arm to help him up. The exciting nature of the game was such that virtually everyone stood the entire three-and-one-half hours, so the doc watched a lot of the action on one oversized scoreboard or another and never complained.
“Nothing like being here, right?” I asked him as the Gators lit up the crowd with a brilliant display of first-half gridiron fireworks. The man was almost teary-eyed. “I really missed all this,” he said. “I can’t believe I waited so long to come back. It’s hard to explain to my wife or friends who watch on television the emotional pull you get from being part of the great crusade. You’re in the battle with the team, you can actually help them, they can hear you.” And so can the opponents who muffed a few offensive calls due to the deafening roar of the swarm.
The man’s balance was so precarious, he made his way to the exit five minutes before the finish with the game well in hand. Everybody in his row and the one behind helped him on his way out. Before he turned to walk off, he smiled at everyone and raised his voice: “It’s been a pleasure, ladies and gentlemen. I feel like I’m among neighbors and the good Lord willin’, I’ll be back next week. If there’s anything to equal this experience, I have never found it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, and Go Gators!”
Sure, it’s the height of comfort watching from your man-cave. The beer is cheap, you can flip to another game during commercials and the drive home is sweet. But you’ll never share the poignant moment with a band of temporary brothers and sisters with racing hearts, souls that ache and hopes which reach the stratosphere. And you’ll seldom feel more alive.
The Perils Of Pauline (Update)
In 1914, The Perils of Pauline titillated American silent movie audiences with the continuing story of a woman named Pauline, played by Pearl White. At the end of each film, Pauline would find herself tied to the railroad tracks with a speeding train headed straight for her or hanging from a cliff with no help in sight or stuck in the middle of a savage mob at Best Buy on Black Friday. There was obviously not a whit of hope for the poor thing and moviegoers found themselves anxiously awaiting the next installment to see if and how Pauline magically eluded death once more. Somehow, of course, by hook or by crook, the heroine always survived to suffer anew.
We have our own Pauline here in Pieland. Her name is Dawn Stevenson, 66, who is still running around after a hysterectomy, gall bladder removal, loss of a lung to cancer, two heart attacks, hardening arteries (genetic), emphysema and brain cancer with radiation. On top of all that, her house in Fort Meyers was horrendously flooded in a recent hurricane and much of it had to be replaced. The only possible assault left is a downpour of toads, which could be on the way. But Dawn is tough as Godzilla and harder to kill. During the avalanche of miseries which have befallen her, she has taken pen in hand to describe her fears as she waits for one storm or another to abate. Her writing is often gripping and her raw terror palpable as she looks through her keyhole to see if the monster is on the other side of her door. She is at the same time brave, weeping, anxious, determined and stubborn as she waits on tenterhooks for the other shoe to fall.
Call us unkind, call us maudlin, call us calloused dullards but don’t call us late for the next exciting episode of Dawn Faces Life. It’s bound to be a wowser.
Arachnid Love
You’d think we’d get all the latest spider information from Pie associate Will Thacker, but he’s on Mountain Tapir patrol in the Andes and can’t be bothered with trivialities. Otherwise we’d know by now that we can soon stop spending $50 apiece for those cute little Viagra pills; there’s a new sheriff in town, or at least on the way.
Researchers are testing a new drug derived from the venom of the enigmatic Brazilian Wandering Spider (Phoneutria nigreventer), also called the banana spider, which may hold the key to more inclusive treatments for erectile dysfunction. Scientists just have a few little nits to address like increased blood pressure, nausea, abdominal cramps and convulsions, not to mention a “prolonged and painful erection which can lead to necrosis of the penis,” meaning the death of its tissues. Oh. Would you repeat that for our audience, George, we might have heard you wrong?
Apparently, the BWS is among the most toxic species of spiders in the world, but let’s get back to that “prolonged” part. Maria Elena de Lima, a professor of biomedicine at the Santa Casa Belo Horizonte hospital in Brazil, swears that a boner-triggering molecule drawn from the venom appears safe to use in humans. “Tests so far have demonstrated the compound works with the application of a minimum amount and without any toxicity,” she promises.
The team hopes the molecule will eventually be an alternative to drugs now available to treat erectile dysfunction. These currently available treatments don’t work for all patients and pose risks for those already taking nitrates, which are often prescribed for chest pain. A combination of say, Viagra or Cialis and the nitrates can cause a dangerous drop in blood pressure.
The molecule, which lucky scientists formulated into a gel and applied to rodents’ happy little groins, triggered erections in the surprised critters. Like the spider’s venom, the new synthetic drug called BZ371A—Buzzy, for short--- triggers the release of nitric oxide, which boosts the blood flow to the genital area. (If you care, Viagra instead blocks an enzyme to make the penis more sensitive to nitric oxide release by the body.) The treatment was successful in old rodents and those with high blood pressure and diabetes, according to researchers, thus might work in people for whom effective medication is unavailable. The drug is now in the second phase of trials in humans. Researchers are hopeful that Buzzy could also treat female sexual dysfunction, since they found it increased blood flow to the female genital area in the pilot experiment.
WARNING! Do not attempt to recreate these experiments with home-bred arachnids which might only look like banana spiders. Dangers can include phallic fungus, herpes, excess groin swelling and the dreaded Penis Itch, for which there is no cure except the fearsome Stones of Fire ceremony of the Bantus. Nobody wants that.
Local Gossip
Our pal Gina Hawkins, the victim of a recent bicycle accident, is giving up her bike-racing career to become a human cannonball at the Circo Mundial, one of Portugal’s largest circuses. “If I’m going to be flying through the air and crash-landing, I’d like to get paid for it,” Hawkins told reporters.
Meanwhile, Hogtown Opry publicist Sharon Yeago is embarking on a new career as a Radio City Rockette in Manhattan. “They’re starting up a senior squad for would-be hoofers,” says Sharon. “I hope to be ready for the big Christmas show in mid-December. We all dress up like bad elves and don’t wear any underwear.”
Subterranean Circus alumnus Chuck LeMasters has hired a campaign manager and is planning to run for Mayor of Jonesville. LeMasters plans to outdo Herbert Hoover, promising voters “a chicken in every pot, two cars in every garage and a finger-lickin’ joint in every ashtray.” Chuck is encouraging more aging hippies to move west and hopes to create a colorful Acidhead Development Zone with low-price housing for artists and other colorful undesirables in the boring corridor between Gainesville and Newberry.
America’s Sweetheart Nancy Kay, who hasn’t left her yard in twelve years, is planning a hitchhiking trip across the country to reprise a similar jaunt back in her hippie years. Kay, who eschews driving since she nods off after three blocks, is planning to hook up with Route 66 halfway across the country and she’s excited about it. “I want to see the big ball of yarn again and play miniature golf at one of those places with the giant dinosaurs.” Since she doesn’t want to wind up landing on the coroner in Winslow, Arizona, Nancy is bringing along two canisters of mace, some handcuffs, a Jim Bowie boot knife and a two-shot Derringer. If she leaves next week and avoids white slavers, she figures to make the Santa Monica Pier by Halloween.
And finally, local artist-photographer Judy Cain will appear at every Alachua County event of more than 6 people in October and take 500 pictures of the proceedings, so be careful in the bathrooms. Judy, a kind and gentle soul, is still thinking of having everyone in town over to her place for Thanksgiving dinner but is currently fretting over the sudden increase in yam prices. She’s also opposed to the sacrifice of turkeys for human consumption so you’ll all be dining on mock turkey made of vital wheat gluten and garbanzo beans, traditional cranberry sauce and Cottleston Pie. Bring your appetite and a tearaway bib.
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| A new concept for booming Jonesville |
That’s all, folks….
