Arkansas Blog

* * * early-20th-century America's endlessly credulous populace, with "the average citizen as guileless as the wide-mouthed shad." * * *

Gee, we've advanced so far, haven't we? Let's see, there's hormone replacement therapy for women (never get old, dear) and an ever-growing list of erection dysfunction drugs (as long as the possiblity of an erection lasting as long as four hours doesn't scare one if not both parties into separate bedrooms).
Don't get me started on all the other earthshaking medications coming out every day that will let you cheat death for a while. That is, unless the meds themselves do you in.
And botox -- don't forget botox.
Sheeeesh. Mumbo-jumbo and opportunities for salesmanship indeed.
Then we move on to the political, economic and religious spectrums.

I think I'll go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.

Amen! to Doigotta's comment.

John Brinkley, "genius" that he was as a charlatan, didn't think of including a warning about four-hour erections in the small-print side-effect information. Now, that's genius!

I've ended my subscription to Newsweek, because every other issue has a cover-story about some medical "breakthrough," accompanied by page after page of advertising by drug companies, health care insurance companies, medical appliances, HMOs, etc. Local TV news programs and, more and more, national network news, seem compelled to report a daily miracle of medical chemisdtry or other medical technology.

Hadacol hucksters were primitive ancestors of today's medication frauds. And hypochondriacal couch potatoes, like P. T. Barnum's fools (or was it suckers?), are born one-a-minute.

I can't get my hands on any goats which probably saves me from a term in Cummins on deviant sex charges anyway, but diabetes and an unresponsive wife have been playing hell with my sex life the last few years. I turn my head and hit the mute button when those CIALIS® commercials come on TV. It's that slinky, sexy 30something wife looking at her man for the whole 30 seconds, wanting him to take her like they do in Harlequin Romance novels. Man, that hurts my feelings!

But like a male praying mantis whose still going at it after his partner has devoured his head, I likes to think there is some sexy time in my future. I warn my wife bout ever going into a coma while I'm still alive. Of course I'd keep the poor dear at home where I could c-a-r-e for her. But she's so damn healthy I'm afraid by the time she has that coma, I'll be a dozen years into my dirt nap.

Still, with no encouragement from anyone, I try to keep myself in shape lest I meet a straying wifey in the grocery store. I've switched from briefs to boxers to give the boys more air. I get Yohimbind or something like that at the Health Food Store to keep my prostate tuned up. I try not to sit on my own petard which no doubt causes impotency later in life. And I watch that super smiling Bob guy on TV and think about ordering my free sample. See, I don't mind watching that commercial because the wife isn't so sexy as to cause me a great sadness. If I was to find a willing waitress and if old John Brinkley was still in business down in LR, I might be tempted to take my sugar bowl money and point the Ford towards the center of the state and try some of that goat gland stuff.

Oh not because I expected a cure, but because at least someone would pay attention to my nether parts for a little while. That would probably perk an old guy up as much as anything else. I also think science might turn from finding ways to make old guys have 4 hour erections and work on stuff that will make your old wife go into a harmless coma now and then or something that makes women hallucinate George Clooney images in the night. Some of us keep circling the track long after the Indy 500 is over. It's a dumb feeling.

Aaaah, memories of Hadacol. I recall as a youngster the praises given to Hadacol by my father and uncles as they sat around at family gatherings and gave ringing halleujahs to the healing power of the miracle luiquid sweeping the country. Little old ladies kept a bottle in the ice box and took a sip before retiring at night and dreamed pleasantly of riding the range with Gene and Smiley.

But then that nasty old government stepped in and made Hadacol makers reduce the alcohol content from 60% to about 18% and the healing power quickly dissapated. People who would never consider taking a nip of rot gut before retiring didn't mind taking the alcohol in the form of medicine. Hadacol soon disappeared. Geritol and Three S tonic are still going strong, with their 18 % alcohol content. It's much cheaper to buy a jug of whiskey, chill it in the refrig, and take a big gulp before retiring at night. Sound sleep is almost assured.....and it doesn't cost near as much as the tonics.

"women hallucinate George Clooney "

After installing new batteries, I also have fantasized about George Clooney. And one night after watching the History Channel, George Washington. But never George Bush, although, I feel
like I have been screwed by him a few times.