Friday, February 27, 2009

Lusty, Lusty, Lusty ...

So, Kay over at “Perhaps We Learned Something” has invented a little meme that is going to last exactly seven weeks. Being the joiner I am, I’ve decided to play along.
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Basically the idea is that she’s going to post one of the Seven Deadly Sins each week, and then we are supposed to write about it. Or do a photo blog about it. Or a vlog. Or whatever. I guess a vlog would be okay, right Kay? You didn’t mention vlogs, but that might be fun.

Anyhoodle, this is week one of the Seven Deadly Sins Meme. And for week one is the sin is …

LUST!

Yeah, baby!


My first thought when I saw that this week’s word was “STRIPPER STORIES!!!” But, then I saw that she asked up keep it PG-13. So, stripper stories are out.

So, instead I will tell a couple of stories from back in the day. The first one takes place in San Francisco, CA.

It was the first time I had ever been there. My brother in law was stationed at Mather Air Force Base in Sacrament and my mother and I went out there to visit. On our visit we made a day trip to San Francisco. Needless to say, it was clear right from the beginning that we weren’t in Arkansas any more.

Anyway, it was our intention to make our way to the Fisherman’s Warf, but we got lost. I’m sure anyone from there, or near there, probably thinks that there is no way to get lost looking for something that EVERYBODY goes to. But, we did.

I’ve never been concerned with getting lost. I just figure it’s part of the sight-seeing trip. So I rather enjoyed driving through different areas of the city. Then we made a turn down some street and found ourselves in a rather interesting neighborhood. To our right was the Lusty Lady Theater …
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Needless to say I was the only one in the Jeep Cherokee who thought stopping and going inside would be a good idea. So, we drove on past. But, I did make a note of the place. Just in case I ever made it back.

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Next I will tell the story about the very first thing that popped into my head when I saw that this week’s word was “Lust.” I have no idea why I thought of this.

When I was a freshman at the University of Arkansas, the town of Fayetteville and the school were both still pretty funky. It would be about five years still before the liberal corporate elitists would take control of the town from the hippies and yuppify the place, thus ruining it.

Also, the 1st Amendment was still intact, and people could set themselves up on the plaza in front of the student union and do some sort of one man protest. Sometimes they would try to get people to save the whales, sometimes it was the rainforests and sometimes they were preaching the gospel. Now of course, you have pay for permit and then go to the designated “fee speech zone.” Don’t get me started.

Anyway, very late in the spring semester, a middle aged man showed up one Monday, carrying a microphone and amp set. He then began to preach the word of God to everyone as we wandered by on our way to and from class or whatever important things we were doing. As the week went on the crowds began to grow and people began to go down there to debate him. It got to be quite the entertaining show. The debates were, for the most part, very respectful and at times very deep and philosophical.

With one exception. Anytime a coed wearing a short dress or shorts would walk past, or come up to him, the man would stop whatever he was talking about, point at her, and yell “LUSTY, LUSTY, LUSTY!” Needless to say, the crowd started joining in with him each time. This made the whole thing even more entertaining.

But, best of all was the fact that by the end of the week, many girls had decided that they too wanted to be called “lusty” by this guy. So, the plaza became a parade of young, fit coeds strutting around in mini-skirts and short-shorts.
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It was a beautiful sight. Girls wearing skimpy outfits walking around, and large crowds of both men and women, led by Mr. Preacherman, shouting “LUSTY, LUSTY, LUSTY” at them.

In fact, it was so much fun that on Friday my buddies and I filled some big 64 ounce plastic cups from the 7-11 (you know the kind with the tight-fitting lid and plastic straw) with beer or a mixture of Bacardi 151 and Gatorade and headed down to watch the show. For most of the afternoon we sat there, drinking alcohol and eating pizza from Jim’s Razorback Pizza in the Union and watched the lusty little ladies strut their stuff.

Next to that party at the Sig Ep house, where those four girls got up on the tables and danced naked, the preacher man was probably the most entertaining thing that happened that semester.

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