Ooooooooooooommmmmmmmmm . . .

Yesterday my sister dragged me to the Sunday morning yoga class that she teaches. While I was bending and contorting in the yoga sort of way for the first time since well before I had surgery on my knee, it occurred to me that I am not as strong as I was just a few months ago, the compensation for a lame knee has hit the whole of my body and left it off kilter, and my flexibility leaves a lot to be desired. This morning, there are very few bits of me that are not experiencing soreness as a result.

My teeth and scalp for example . . . they are not sore.

Yoga is a dear friend. Sure there is pain involved, but it soothes my mind, sculpts biceps that are fun to look at, promotes strength and flexibility that leaves the fellas awestruck, and facilitates an exciting sex life. Now . . . all I have to do is get the fella to strike with awe and I'll be all set. Well, that and spend some time getting my yoga game face back on so I will have the wherewithal to pitch out some awe inspiring contortions.

For all of you fellas, who have not yet taken a yoga class, there are benefits worth consideration that many a man overlooks.

• It isn't just for girls.
  
• Just because you do yoga, doesn't mean you have to become a snively vegetarian and there is no need to start wearing hippy clothing and odious freaking patchouli oil.
  
• Every guy I know who does yoga regularly has a superior body in shape and tone to those who do no yoga. In fact, the guys I know who do yoga exclusively for fitness, foregoing weights and aerobic activities, have better bodies than most other athletes I have known.
  
• The whole relaxation bit is tremendous; all of life's woes do evaporate for a spell.
  
• It makes for the sleep of an angel.
  
• And one must not overlook the class itself, which is largely populated by flexible women in tight clothing.

The "yoga crowd" gets the . . . peace, love, unity, happiness, 'balance' . . . wtf? Balance? That is where the boat sets sail without them. They tend to overlook giving equal energy to war, hatred, discordance, sadness, anger, and so forth. The results of which are a bunch of self-indulgent assholes that spend all their time focused on their own personal inner peace, love, unity, happiness. Only the pretty thoughts and feelings shall enter their "beings". However, all you have to do is glare and spit at them and they slink away just like street proselytizers do.

If You Remember the 60’s . . .

Confession: I don’t get the 60’s. Of course there is music from the 60’s that works for me, and there is the mighty automotive theme of yesterday’s post, but as a decade, I’ve never really gained the pop-culture appreciation that most people of my era have. I realize that I’ll be raising hackles on many people, but I don’t see it as a magical time. And truth be told, I wasn’t there. I was born in February of 1970, so my only real experience with the 60’s was conception and gestation. So clearly, I’m talking out of my bootie on this one.

I think feminism has done as much bad as good. Not that feminism was created in the 60’s, but great strides were made during that time.

Yes, I appreciate being able to wear trousers without sidelong glances or presumption that I’m a lesbian. Yes, it’s great that women can go without the constraints of a brassiere. [As a side note: I’m very pro-brassiere. I’m 37 years old and still have high and firm titties. It works for me. I know plenty of women who don’t enjoy such a fate and even rue casting aside their bras as their udders sail to lower and lower latitudes of their anatomy. Having said that, I haven’t borne children either, so my bosoms have mostly been used as modes of seduction and toys for boys. I’m a giver.] Yes, a lady can work in a man’s field. I do. It has ups and downs.

The downside of feminism is that it has bred a climate of political correctness, especially in fields that have any crossover with academia, which disallows fun and off-color joking. Shameful. People seem to be constantly censoring themselves out of saying the fun and amusing things that would make them much more interesting. One of the saddest results of this feminist movement is men who have had the backbone bullied out of them.

The whole free love, hippie peacenik thing: it tends to overlook balance in favor of happy, pretty, peace. Peace is flat without some complimentary aggression. Balance, friends, it soothes my soul.

To give fair credit, lots of good came from the 60’s. Music, writing, sex, tolerance, and surely a bunch of political stuff that I know virtually nothing about because I’m admittedly horrible about paying attention to history. And that makes up the theme of this post: in the end, I may not know what I’m talking about, and I wasn’t there.