Testosterone. The early years.
Saturday, May 30, 2009 at 04:19PM Note to readers: The BakerMuse Department of Biosciences has recently completed a year-long study of the effect of testosterone on the adolescent male brain. While there has been some scientific doubt that the young male has a brain, the grant money was like low hanging fruit The study looked at various catalysts of increased testosterone in the elementary and middle school set. This is an except from the unpublished study. BakerMuse would like to thank the National Institutes of Health, Victoria Secret, National Geographic and Chuck E. Cheese, Inc. for their continued support.
When I was younger, I was a bubbling vat of testosterone. You could see my XYY chromosomes without the aid of an electron microscope. I was the kind of manly man who would feel comfortable wearing nothing but burlap underwear, steel-toed chukka boots, and a chain-mail T-shirt.
Well, now I've evolved from that bubbling vat into the lukewarm water of a sterno-heating chafing dish. So, in this new edition of BakerMuse, I will reveal the results of our study on the effects of testosterone on males ages 6-18. Actually, we only studied one man. The author.
Betty and Veronica. When I was a young lad, I was enthralled by Superman, Bat Man and Green Arrow. But then, I spotted Betty and Veronica in the comic book rack. Holy hormones, Batman. For a 9-year-old, this was the equivilent of getting an invite to Hef's Grotto.
Much like the age old question, "who do you like better "Ginger or Mary Ann?" I opted for the girl-next- door type, the blonde bombshell Betty. As a youth, I had one burning question about life and its mysteries. Why were they interested in that dweeb Archie?
Julie Lucarino and the Plaid Skirt In eighth-grade, the girl who sat next to me in class had an outfit she wore twice a week. It was a plaid skirt with an oversized saftey pin attached to the front.
I wasn't an overtly religious boy, but I prayed nightly that Julie would purchase a week's worth of these delightful tartans. Frankly, Julie could have played the bagpipe and eaten mounds of Haggis and it still would have fascinated me. The photo at right is a rough approximation of what I remember seeing across the aisle.
The Green Women of Star Trek.
Why would I lust over a woman the color of raw Brussel sprouts? Well, they were the original bad girls of the universe. Apparently, chlorophyll is an aphrodisiac They danced provocatively. They flirted.
And they even found Lt. Sulu attractive and he had his sights set on Captain Pike. After this episode I decided to give up my fear of heights and become an astronaut.
Princess Leia and the Bikini
In the first Star Wars, I appreciated Princess Leia, but no major hormonal bells were ringing. Frankly, I found the Wookie more appealing. But once the Sumu-Belkin-esk Jabba the Hut captured the princess and wedged her into a rivet-popping metal bikini, I soon lost interest in the green girls of Orion. Who knew the women from the planet Alderann, were so fetching?
Whipped Cream Delights. Well, this is was the one that started it all. The mother load. This was the first time I would rather have dived into the whipped cream than eat it. I put this album cover on my night stand. My parents thought I was showing an growing interest in brass ensembles. Even now, when I buy a can of Redi Whip, I have a smile on my face. Thank you, Herb Albert and the delightful Tijuana Brass.
Reader Comments (4)
Thank you so much for that trip down the pubescent highway. I myself had several encounters as a tween with catholic school girls and their school girl ensemble.
By the way, in an upcoming issue Archie is going to choose between Betty and Veronica and stop leading them on. I know this because I have magically tapped back into my pubescent self. Actually, my wife says I haven't really grow up but whatever.
I had a Julie too, but her name was Denise.
I'm not sure if it was the testosterone, but I was certainly paying attention at the ripe old age of 11.
Cheers!
Dear Dude:
I'm just happy the testosterone kicked in. Curious, how we remember the name -- no matter how much time has passed.
Thanks for reading --
Marty Bakermuse