Humour

Beach(es) Beat

Life's a beach and Glenn Cochrane shares his unique perspective.

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Men in proper shorts don't cause potholes or the common cold

 
 
The marvelous time of the year called summer is well and truly with us in all its dazzling array. It is the season for cookouts and canoe trips and all manner of delightful activities that we can only dream about when winter has us in its icy grip. Flowers are in bloom, songbirds are all atwitter, days are long and men's pants are short, and therein lies the problem.

It seems that some members of society believe that the male lower limbs, when exposed to sunlight, are responsible for many bad things including potholes and several varieties of the common cold.

Just for openers, I would like to know why they are called shorts in the first place when in fact they are much longer than the women's dresses that are so fashionable nowadays. Nothing the matter with that, I say, but I have to say it quietly so The Wife won't hear and I realize I am starting to wander a little bit, which I blame entirely on today's topic.

The opposition to this particular item of male apparel seems to be that men's legs are lumpy and while that is true in part, there is a practical reason for this.

Those so-called lumps are in fact calf muscles and men use them as a form of propulsion in times of emergency such as getting to The Beer Store before it closes or to the flower store before it closes because you have forgotten the anniversary again.

Many arguments can be made in favor of men's legs and the reasons range from the aesthetic to the practical.

I firmly believe that when properly attired in shorts made of durable material with a nice crease, a man would be a welcome addition to social engagements of all stripes from garden parties to outdoor weddings.

So my advice to the anti-male leg forces is don't criticize their calves and don't knock their knees.

In case you were wondering where my heart lies on this issue I am steadfastly pro-shorts. My knees are dimpled, but not aggressively so, and there was a time when I enjoyed striding along the boardwalk wearing a pair of khaki shorts whenever weather permitted.

I abandoned the practice some years ago because, for reasons that elude me, women of a certain age began tackling me whenever I was clad in this fashion. The tackles were clean, but hard, which leads me to believe my assailants had some connection with the Balmy Beach Club, but the encounters happened so quickly I never caught a good description of them.