You all know about the gleam--that uber whiteness that by which my Canadian Iron Hero is seen from deep space. His influence is undoubtedly the source for the pasty fashionistas now sweeping the country. Pale is the new tan. (All rights reserved 2007 by Greyhound Enterprises. Absolutlely no use without the express written consent of Greyound Enterprises LLC). It's going to be a thing.
And while he is notable west of the Mississippi for some intense gleamage, he does not have the Western United States monopoly on the gleam. I, too, have some mighty fine gleam action. Notwithstanding a smidge of Cherokee heritage that colors in the sun, I gleam on the inside. To wit:
I am a professionally trained musician, but I can't improvise.
I have rhythm, but only if the music was written in the Western European, classical tradition.
My hips don't lie. In fact, they don't move at all.
I'm so inhibited, that my inhibitions have inhibitions.
With inhibitions on inhibitions, and hips that are always ramrod straight, I can't dance. Not even a little. (Mrs. Greyhound has never been dancing in 18 years of marriage. She is a local object of pity.)
I am: White.And.Nerdy. WASP to the core.
But when you work out in South Texas, you need artificial help to keep the gleam on the outside as lilly white as the gleam on the inside. This week, I employed two new pieces of equipment that I HIGHLY recommend on my mega 112 mile ride in the South Texas heat. This equipment is so remakable that I hereby nominate them for Graig's List. BEHOLD:
The De Soto Forza Skin Tri Jersey. And, to cover those muscly and yet pasty arms:
De Soto Cool Wings.
These remarkable, space age fabrics not only block out damaging UV rays, they are actually cooler than going naked on the bike.
Not that I've ever . . . but I digress.
These devices promote such efficient evaporation that even when you ride your bike in the mouth of the dragon like I do, it was downright chilly.
OK, that's a lie. It was incredibily hot, but I did ride 112 miles where the heat off the pavement reached 100 degrees, averaged 17.5 mph while moving, kept my heartrate average at 124, and was totally ready to run when I finished. If it is hot in Wisconsin, THIS is how I'll roll.
This equipment will revolutionize triathlon in the South. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a gleam. It is a gleam deeply rooted in the American gleam.
I have a gleam that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "Use your sunblock."
I have a gleam that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former Canadians and the sons of former Texans will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a gleam that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of . . . uhm, heat, sweltering with the heat of really hot heat, will be transformed into an oasis of cool winds.
I have a gleam that my little daughter will one day live in a nation where she will not be judged by the spf of her sun screen but by the brightness of her gleam.
I have a gleam today.
Let's see the gleam, from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let's see the gleam, from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let's see the gleam from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let's see the gleam from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let's see the gleam from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let's see the gleam.