A couple of weeks ago, my personal zeitgeist went completely phallic.
First, it was book club. My friend Sharon, a freelance writer, volunteered that she was doing some work involving the San Francisco Healthy Penis Project, which is focused on raising awareness of syphilis and persuading gay and bisexual men to get tested. Along with lists of clinics and super-fun comic strip ads like these,
there were also people wandering the streets of the Castro (SF's gay district) wearing seven-foot-tall penis costumes.
Apparently the campaign has also been used in other parts of California, and in Winnipeg here in Canada, where I assume the seven-foot-tall penises are wearing parkas, or a lot of mosquito repellent.
(Shut up, Pedro! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA).
Later in the week, it was beer-and-fifty-cent-wings night with our crew at Johnny Canucks. The topic of circumcision came up, and my friend said her husband was of the opinion that circumcision was a Catholic tradition as well as a Jewish one, because all the Catholic men of his age that he knew were circumcised. I said that I didn't think it had anything to do with Catholicism, but rather was the trend in hospitals and health care at that time. Being of curious mind, my friend did some research and emailed it out the next day. Since his inbox was filling up with "penis research", another friend graced us with the link to Double Dick Reddit Guy, so, you know, there went that afternoon.
|Photo credit amy_buthod|
Then Eve came home from school "totally traumatized" by the puberty unit in health class. She kept waving the penis diagram in my face and saying "WE HAVE TO NAME ALL THE PARTS!" She said they all felt really bad for Jonathan because he had to write the word 'penis' on the board. She regaled us with quotes from the antiquated video they were shown, where little Johnny asks his Uncle Pat what happens if his penis never gets any bigger, and hollered about fallopian tubes at random intervals. There was a quiz on the Friday, so every few hours we'd ask how her studying was going for the penis test. My mom and Marianna's grandmother tried the "why is it any different from talking about eyes, or elbows, or any other body part?" tactic, but I didn't even bother. Penises are funny. They just are.
So yeah, that week was a total ball (I kill me). On the week-end my husband came to bed and indicated some amorous intentions. I looked up from my book and saw that he had left the bedroom door open, and reminded him that Eve had just gone to bed one room away, and that she had probably had enough of penises for one seven-day period.