The Refectory Manager

The refectory . . . A place to nourish the soul. A place to share the savory comestibles, the sweet confections, the salty condiments of the things that matter. A place to ruminate the cud of politics. A place to rant on the railings of religion. A place to arrange the flowers of sanguine beauty. A place to pause in the repose of shelter. Welcome, my friend. The Refectory Manager

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Location: College Place, Washington, United States

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Canned

My friend in Serbia, the Sautnerer's Journal guy, ( http://saunterersjournal.blogspot.com/ ) can ask the damndest of questions! I love him for it. Like this one!


“But before I forget, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. I know
you'll laugh, given that it's such a digression. Jockstraps. What's that all
about? I understand they are now more common in places like Britain and
Australia, but they still seem like something quintessentially American, one of
those things that, in spite of the globalization still haven't landed on our
shores. Obviously, I know what they are and what they're meant to be for. I'm
just fascinated with the idea behind the design (and vice versa), and the
eroticism of it. Any cultural notes and observations?”



Well. Yes. I did laugh!!

And maybe even blushed a little tiny bit!!! LOL

‘Cause it brought back a whole bunch of memories.

And as he so astutely observed, it is more than the “idea behind the design” and “design behind the idea!” Because of the nature of the functionality involved, it is not the “behind” that has much to do with either the idea or the design, rather, it is the “before.”

But I did do a quick little Google search and did find this interesting little rendition on the utility of jock straps.

http://www.slate.com/id/2123007/

My nephew just popped in a couple of minutes after his e-mail arrived. So I read that paragraph to him.

My nephew was so damned serious! “They are a fetish! Some guys are really hot with jockstraps! They are a real turn-on! To be seen wearing them. Taking them off. Putting them on. Sniffin’ them. They’re hot!”

And then he says he has to lose some weight so he can get back into his! LOL

But back to your original digression. The quintessentially American jockstrap.

And the memories.

As a boy of 13/14 years old, my Dad was a “community organizer” and hosted and coached a hockey team for kids from my parochial school. We were never good enough to play in the organized community leagues, but he would find “exhibition” games for us to play. He bought shirts and sticks and stuff for the 8 or 10 kids in our team, and would haul us off to games on Sunday mornings (being a SDA school, no Saturday games, which also disqualified us from the community leagues as they all had games on Saturday) or sometimes weeknights.

As a latent gay kid, I absolutely hated it. There was nothing worse. I was not athletic. Not near competitive enough. Hated my body with a passion. And anything that made reference to it.

I’m sure I frustrated my Dad.

And then that can!

I “inherited” a whole hockey outfit from some second cousin I had never met, and it included a jockstrap and a “can.” That hard metal cup thing that was supposed to fit in the jockstrap to keep your nuts from getting creamed by a flying puck.

Except I was too small, and the jockstrap and can were too big and I didn’t know how to wear it and too ashamed to ask anybody so the thing would just kind of hang on my waist, dangle down by my knees somewhere, all covered up by the big hockey pants, and the damn can would not stay in and kept falling out. Hockey outfits really are a contraption!

And it is absolutely mortifying to be skating down the ice and your can falls out and goes sliding away!! Then some bastard hits it with his hockey stick and the thing goes whistling by the goalie’s head over the boards. And then after the game, to be questioned what in hell you were looking for out in the snow bank!

Misery. Personified.

But I had been hit in the groin a time or two and so the fear of repeating that was even greater than the fear of fiddlin' with that friggin’ thing to try and keep it in place.

Then there is the use of jock straps by old guys! Yeah, really old guys. The guys who have enlarged prostate glands that make peeing a pissing contest between relief and mortification. For instead of inserting a “can” in the jock strap, they will insert one of those “protection pads” to catch that gawd awful leaking resulting from poor bladder control.

But one of the fond memories I do have of my Dad was listening to him, and watching him, tell someone who innocently happened to ask him about his tastes in music. Invariably he would respond by saying that his favorite music group was “Jacque Straup and his All Elastic Band!”

Kind of like when somebody would pressure him into telling what religion he was, and he would shut them up by saying that he went “to the Round Church, where the devil couldn’t corner him.”

Well, you are probably sorry you asked!!! LOL

But since they have not landed on your shores yet, if you have any hinkering for a jockstrap, the athletic superstores around here have a myriad of selections. I dare say I could find a nice one that would meet either/and/or/both your design criteria and your idea criteria!

Hugs

The Refectory Manager

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