First, let’s be clear about one thing: I consider myself a “man's man.” Okay, I’m not really sure what that means, and when you stop and think about it, it’s kind of suspect. All I know is that I don’t go around shaving my legs or wearing spandex tights and form-fitting, flamingly bright tops. All right, maybe sometimes, but so do plenty of other hardcore manly-man bicyclists. Even Lance. Hey, say what you want about all the alleged cheating and the porno-friendly name, and whatever else about Armstrong sticks in your craw: anyone manly enough to whip testicular cancer, win seven consecutive TDFs, and have enough energy left over to date rock-legend Sheryl Crow has got more than his god-given allotment of testosterone coursing through his veins (which probably accounts for his current legal woes). And then there’s Arnold, former governor of my great state. But let’s not go there, shall we?
The point is, I am not the sort of guy who knowingly uses ladies’ products. But the other day, I was out stocking up on Clif Bars and other legal (sorry, Lance) performance enhancers, and I came across these appetizing little treats called “Luna Bars.” I guess I confused them with “Lara Bars.” Now there’s a feminine-sounding product if ever I heard one. But the nutritional data on the Luna Bar’s package was impressive, so I bought some.
Cutting to the chase: I ate Luna -- and I liked it (apologies to Katy Perry).
I was pleased with how well I performed and felt after 150 miles of tough hills and fast flats, and looked up this little wonder-bar treat on the Internet. I was shocked -- SHOCKED -- to read this about Luna Bars: “Created by and FOR WOMEN, Luna Bars were the first bar just for us.”
Oh, sweet mother of pearl...
I could only hope the damage to my manhood wasn’t irreparable. The questions flowed fast and furious through my head: (1) What if my whiskey-guzzling, cigar-chomping, football-fanatic cycling buddy finds out? (2) Will I grow breasts? (3) Why am I getting so emotional about this? And finally, (4) Do these shorts make my butt look big? Fortunately, the answers quickly revealed themselves, too: (1) Who cares what Todd thinks -- he’s a Michigan fan, anyway; (2) Probably not: if that were the case, the cosmetic surgery lobby would’ve been all over Congress to ban Luna Bars; (3) Because one of those damned little bars costs as much as a Big Mac, that’s why; and (4) No -- it’s the same size no matter what I wear.
To my relief, closer scrutiny of the label revealed that Luna Bars contain no measurable quantity of estrogen. I’ve concluded that it’s all a clever marketing ploy:* make smaller bars, and then sell them for a higher price by labeling them “For women.” It’s a time-tested formula: if you’re a guy, just ask your wife or anyone else who’s ever shopped for women’s clothing.
What a relief. I can remain secure in the knowledge that I’m still a man’s man ... whatever that means.
* FYI, also: if you’re old enough to be taking “Centrum Silver,” then taking “Centrum Ultra Men’s” will not function as a male enhancement product, um, so I’m told.
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