Who Needs a Windproof Jockstrap?

Some peeps were wondering about the jock strap photo in yesterday’s post of unusual things. If you don’t understand why such a thing in important, check out this story from my high school ski coach to get an appreciation for why they’re the most important layer of clothing a male skier or runner puts on in the winter:

Oxygen Debt

Fear–Big Time
Fear!– And
Mayhem on the
Nordic Path

Editor’s Note: I became friends with Rick Callies three years ago. During that time I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy listening to Rick’s crazy training stories. What follows is a tape-recorded conversation I coaxed out of him on a long road trip back from the Big Shooter Get ready to laugh, because Rick has done some crazy things on skis, and even crazier things on roller skis.

Do they cut these things off?
It must have been, 1980, 1979, somewhere in there. The big thing was for that Birkie, as we were at the starting line, it started raining. It was warm, but a front moved through right before the start. Lycra suits were relatively new at that, time. No one expected bad weather. Everyone was dressed in just their lycra, no long underwear, no nothing, just a racing suit because it was warm at the start, 33 or 34 degrees. But when we were standing in the pen it started raining. And then it started drizzling freezing rain. And then the cold front moved in.While we were skiing the temperature dropped to ten degrees. I never knew anything was wrong, until I finished the race. I had half an inch of’ ice frozen on the outside of my suit. I couldn’t even get my zipper down. I had to chip myself out of my suit; I had to chip away the ice. About ten minutes after you finished, you started to realize that there was something seriously wrong. My d*#! was just on fire. The worst part of the race was that you had to finish on the Lake, and there was just a huge wind blowing right through your suit and by then everything is already soaked and frozen. The wind was just blowing. It was miserable.

We finished in Hayward. l don’t even know where I was, but I went into some bathroom and there were all these guys in there -screaming and crying. They’d all frozen their freakin’ peckers. I was starting to thaw out at that point and I was screaming. I unzipped my ‘suit and whipped it out and it was black!

My first thought, of course, was, “ahh, man! Do they cut these off”?” They cut everything else oil’ that gets frostbitten bad. I was like, “F$#!!!! They’re gonna cut my freakin� pecker off’!!!”

I was hurting so bad. I got up to the sink, bellied up to it, and whipped out what was left of’ my petei–it was this awful black-grey -and started cupping hot water on the, thing, trying to bring it back to life. If it weren’t for the fear I think I might have passed out. It works Fine now, if you were wondering, I was definitely worried at the time.

6 Unusual Things That Have Happened to Me

1. I had two cars die while driving, resulting in tows of over 100 miles . . . in the same summer. One died around 150 miles North of Fairbanks, AK. The other near Denali National Park.
2. I went tanning in a tanning bed. The first and only time I did it, I ended up with red stripes on my back like the American flag. It was very relaxing until the burn set in over night. I still have two more free tans at that place in Green Bay.
3. I flew a Douglas DC-3 North of the Arctic Circle. No take-offs or landings. But I did bank my way between light clouds on a mostly sunny summer day.

The Hand4. I was the photographer for a photo shoot of two men in jock straps. The outtakes were awesome. The expressions on the faces on the photo developers were even better.

5. I helped edit a book for a guy I had never met or even spoken on the phone with. We met on a stock message board, had a common interest in Google, and we clicked. Carly thinks it’s strange that I have “online friends” but I wouldn’t be writing this right now if I hadn’t been tagged by an “online friend” I hope to meet sometime over a Reuben Sandwich.
6. I invited an Internet porn star into my apartment. I used to live on Excelsior Blvd. in Minneapolis near the Whole Foods. One night, I swung down to pick up the mail at the front of the building and noticed a woman standing in the entryway. I let her in, only to find out that she didn’t live in the building (security breach). She seems like a total character so I invited her up to the apartment I shared with a friend, Ben. Ben was surfing the web when we entered the apartment. I grabbed beers for all of us and she started talking to Ben about how she had a web site. Ben looked it up, and sure enough, she had her own porn site. She wasn’t exactly attractive. Eventually, I went to bed, leaving Ben to deal with the porn “star.” He decided to drive her home, but she was having a hard time remembering where she lived so it took a looooong time while I was cutting zzzzz’s. I believe this was on a Monday night. Moral: don’t bring porn “stars” home.

Time to tag some other folks: Kenneth, Mike, and Tim. Let’s see what’s unusual in your past.