Pigs Take Main Street

I honestly love our local news:

Police responded to five large pigs stopping traffic on Main Street. Two cruisers and Lt. Bob Hazelwood joined the effort to return the pigs to their pen. It wasn't easy. "One of those pigs is over 400 pounds," Hazelwood noted. Nor are pigs easily cowed. They don't move even when confronted or coaxed. Police eventually resolved the problem by shaking containers of grain, which the hungry pigs were unable to resist and happy to follow.

Hidden History of Salem Video

Hidden History of Salem available for Pre-Order on Amazon!

Previously Unseen Color Footage of the Blitz

Haarlem Oil - Health Insurance in a Jar

Today in Salem History:

On April 24, 1792, Abraham Solis advertised "Haerlaemer Oil" with "Dutch explanations of its use" in the Salem Gazette.

This was probably Haarlem Oil, a diuretic made in Holland since 1672 and still in demand in the early 20th century.

So popular was this remedy, practically every drugstore in America made their own blend. In 1906 it was estimated that "ten bottles of substitute are sold to one of the genuine."

Thackeray mentions it. Louis and Clark never went anywhere without it. So what was it?

In a time with few powerful medicines and no health insurance, Haarlem Oil was your basic safety blanket. It was said to ward off contagious diseases. It strengthened the eyes. It helped your kidneys, bladder, and stomach. It was good for your nerves. In fact, it was good for just about anything, according to its faithful consumers.

Speaking of faith, the "Dutch instructions" bore the Latin legend:  Medicamentum Gratia Probatum which was translated as "remedy approved by Grace." This wasn't any potion derived from black magic or superstition. Haarlem Oil was Approved. Consumers were encouraged to have faith in its ability to heal them, whatever their hurt.

You might be wondering, what did the Oil contain?

The recipe for genuine Haarlem Oil was a close-kept secret. However, the American knock-offs tended to be mostly made up of balsam of sulfur and oil of turpentine.

I suppose if you were strong enough to survive the remedy, you were bound to get better.

Spaced, the final frontier

In my role as pop culture maven, I am here to explain to you why so many of your friends are wishing you a happy 420 today.

Your friends aren't saying that?  It's just mine?  Well, whatever.

Four-twenty as a denotation of belonging to the "cannabis subculture" began, according to Wikipedia, with a group of marijuana smokers at San Rafael High School who would meet at 4:20pm.

Since 4/20 is April 20th (in the way the US writes dates), April 20th became a sort of "counterculture holiday."

"Up to 2,000 UC Santa Cruz students celebrated '420' on Friday by smoking marijuana on Porter Meadow as law enforcement officers stood by." - 2007 Santa Cruz Sentinel article

This was after my time at UCSC but I can totally imagine this on the Porter Meadow. Especially as Porter is home to the Flying IUD.

UCSC has some really odd sculpture. Don't get me started on the Increasingly Disgustingly Morbid Dead Goat at Cowell.


But I digress. For those of you who can't imagine it, here is a photo.

So there you have it. April 20 is a marijuana-themed holiday, and as such it is also associated with the legalization movement.

Which is probably why this story ran today in Des Moines, Iowa:

Iowa Medical Group Gives Medical Pot Thumbs Up

Yes, Iowa, folks. The Heartland.

Although Iowa has always been a fairly cool midwestern state.

Wasn't Captain James T Kirk born there?

A Girl's Two Paths

Here is another interesting historical document. Again with a feminist theme. Or anti-feminist. Also anti-romance.

Mamas don't let your babies grow up to read Sappho.
Who actually wrote poems, not a novel.

Unless they mean this....

They probably meant this.  (It was first published in 1888.)

Yet again, romance will lead you down the path to perdition. (sigh)

Going back to our two paths - I like how Virtue doesn't Flirt.  How does Virtue get a man's attention then?  Did men back then just wander door-to-door, searching for virtuous women like Diogenes with his lamp?

And apparently that baby arrived by stork. (No "murmuring how delicious it is"! Bad woman!)

By the way, this warning to women was also distributed with a white character. I suppose we should be happy the people behind it were equal-opportunity party-poopers.

Lizzie Borden Not Guilty - Her Period Did It

This is the bedroom where Lizzie Borden allegedly took a hatchet to her step-mother.

(And you can actually stay here in this room - the house is a bed & breakfast now.)

I've long known about the infamous axe murder of her parents and the fact that Lizzie was generally thought to have done it even though she was acquitted at trial.

Someone was certainly after them, as they had suffered from suspicious food poisoning. And Lizzie had bought poison at the drugstore.

So why a hatchet?

Well, according to The History of Murder and A Private Disgrace, Lizzie's father had recently chopped off the heads of her pet pigeons with a hatchet. (Makes ya wonder what was going on in that house - what a sick, cruel thing for a father to do.)  And she may have been thinking about that when she had a petit mal epileptic seizure. These are also known as absence seizures. Basically, the person suffering from the seizure can walk and talk and function but isn't conscious of their actions. Such seizures can happen during one's menstruation.

And it is a recorded fact that Lizzie Borden was menstruating on the day her parents were killed.

This was mentioned in Flow, that Lizzie committed the murders during - and due to - her period, and I was like, what? Seriously?

So I looked it up in The History of Murder and, sure enough, there it is. No wonder men are so afraid of a female with access to nuclear weapons. It's not just the PMS you have to worry about. It's the period during the period itself, as well. So that's, what, two weeks each month where women could be indiscriminately violent. As opposed to men....

Anyway, this theory was first put forth by Victoria Lincoln in A Private Disgrace, which I have yet to read. The theory about Lizzie and her period, that is, not the theory about man-fear. Obviously. Just checking that you were still reading attentively.  ;)

On top of the pigeon massacre, there were also some financial dealings with which Lizzie took issue. So money was a motive as well. And then the menstruation-instigated seizure caused her to act out her feelings.

It's an interesting solution to the crime.

Forking

Have you ever wondered why Americans switch hands to eat with their fork, but Europeans don't?

Yes you have. You lie awake at night, in the cold early morning, pondering life, the universe, the number 42, and why Americans eat with a zig-zag fork pattern. Admit it.

Well, now there will be one less thing to ponder in the bitter existentialist dawn because I am here to share the answer with you:

If you're American, you know the proper way to hold your dining utensils is:  fork in left hand, knife in right. After you cut your food, you release the knife and switch your fork to your right hand. Then you eat right-handed with the fork.

If you're British, you know the proper way to hold your dining utensils is: fork in left hand, knife in right. Full stop. Period.  After you cut your food, you eat left-handed with the fork.  No switching occurs.

Why the difference?

Time was, your average fork possessed two narrow tines, spaced apart, and was absolutely flat.  Sort of like a carving fork, which was basically what it was. You used it to hold the food still while you cut with your knife, then you lifted the food to your mouth with your knife's wide, flat blade.  (Remember, this was considered far more genteel than eating with your fingers.)

The technology for making utensils changed over the 1700s so by the early 1800s flatware was financially within reach of more people and, to establish your place in high society, the idea of having whole matching sets came into vogue.

At which point, etiquette moved from use-your-knife-not-your-fingers to use-your-fork-not-your-knife.

"Where, excepting among savages, shall we find any who at present eat with other than a French fork?" - The laws of etiquette, 1836

Forks weren't French, but Americans associated them with good manners, and the French were our arbiters of taste (remember, we'd fought the British twice at this point). At this time, the French ate in the zig-zag pattern, so the US did, too.

The British invented the fork-stays-in-left-hand method.

Other Europeans saw this as a "simplification" of table manners - always a good thing in an age where there was etiquette for everything - so a German etiquette book recommended the "English method" in 1832 and a French manual recommended it in 1853.

Meanwhile, patriotic Americans did not wish to be "influenced by imported manners" (Mrs. Farrar, 1830s).  So we kept to the zig-zag. And ended up being the only country that did.

TA DA!
Now you know. Go forth and amaze your friends at the water cooler. :)

Research from:
Ambitious Appetites: Dining, Behavior, and Patterns of Consumption in Federal Washington (Octagon Research Series)

UK Under Snow - Yes, All Of It

Do You M/M?

Are you one of the many (many, many) readers of m/m romance? Do you swoon to Alex Beecroft's False Colors: An M/M Romance or Erastes' Transgressions: An M/M Romance?

For anyone who might be thinking, "What, M&M's have romance?" and trying to picture the green girl M&M in something slinky.... no.

M/M is short for male/male - as in leave-out-the-annoying-heroine-and-just-give-us-two-hot-men - romance. This genre is extremely popular, especially in ebooks.

I like the historical ones. Now, you might think there wouldn't be much scope for realism in such romances.  And there you would be wrong.

I have been reading Male-Male Intimacy in Early America: Beyond Romantic Friendships and it is fascinating how fluid love could be in early America. Not only was there no word yet for homosexuality, there was no real concept of it as a permanent existence. As this was also before companionate marriage, both men and women got married because it was expected - not only for social but for business and economic reasons. So whom you married often did not coincide with whom you loved. And once in a while someone left us evidence that the person they loved shared their gender. How they then handled this can be very emotional and touching.

We tend to think of maritime settings as being the best venue for historically accurate m/m romance, and indeed, next I am going to be reading the non-fiction An American Seafarer in the Age of Sail: The Erotic Diaries of Philip C. Van Buskirk, 1851-1870. However, there were Virginia planters, mountain men, trappers, farmers, and even urban citizens who experienced the love that dared not speak its name. (BTW, apparently Philadelphia rocked when it came to wild sex during the Federal period.)

Quite a diverse field for authors to mine for story-lines!  I encourage anyone who writes or reads m/m fiction to check out the non-fiction.

And speaking of inspiring tales of m/m non-fiction, I must of course mention I Am What I Am, John Barrowman's new autobiography.

Yes, I'm a fan-girl. I dare you not to be. :)

Pugs Are Everywhere

One of the points I make in my book PugSpotting is that pug owners like to involve pugs in everything they do.

If you can put a pug in it, pug owners are there and have done it.

Random insertions of pugs in books and artwork? Check.

Pugs on utensils, inkwells, match holders, cigarette cases, and finials? Check.

Pug-shaped teapots, pounce pots, and salt-and-pepper shakers? Check.

If you can take your pug with you, pug owners have done that, too. And not just out for a walk or to a restaurant.

Pugs exploring the Old West? Check.

Pugs circumnavigating the globe? Check.

Pugs going to staff an embassy in Afghanistan. Check.

Yes, you read that correctly.

In 1879, Maj. Sir Pierre Louis Napoleon Cavagnari, K.C.B. C.I.E., Bengal Staff Corps, brought his pug with him to staff the Kabul Embassy.

Since this was during the 3rd Afghan War, you might perhaps think this was not the most secure place to take a pug. And you would be right. The Kabul Mission was massacred down to the last man - and there had been about 100 of them.

The sole survivor of the massacre was Cavagnari's pug.

The British would re-enter Kabul, of course, and the resourceful little pug was rescued and sent home to Lady Cavagnari. Amazing, right? True story.

This holiday season, I wish you all the luck of Cavagnari's pug. :)

More Libellous Fiction

Nathaniel Hawthorne (who as you can see was somewhat of a hottie) also experienced libel accusations in regard to one of his most famous works of fiction.

In The House of Seven Gables, the name of the corrupt, evil villain is Judge Pyncheon. It just so happens that there actually was a Judge Pyncheon, and one of his descendents wrote to Hawthorne, complaining of libel.

Hawthorne responded:

"It pains me to learn that I have given you what I am content to acknowledge a reasonable ground for offense, by borrowing the name of the Pyncheon family for my fictitious purposes, in the "House of the Seven Gables."

It never occurred to me, however, that the name was not as much the property of a romance-writer as that of Smith, for instance...

I intended no allusion to any Pyncheons, now or at any previous period extant...

You suggest that reparation is due for these injuries of my pen, but point out no mode in which it may be practicable. It is my own opinion that no real harm has been done; inasmuch as I expressly enter a protest, in the preface to "The House of the Seven Gables," against the narrative and the personages being considered as other than imaginary."

The entire letter is very apologetic in tone, and it seems that this was enough to "pacify" the complainant.

As it happens, we know Hawthorne absolutely meant no libel toward any Pyncheons because we know precisely on whom Judge Pyncheon was based.

But that is a tale for another day. :)

Libellous Fiction

You may have heard how a Georgia jury found the author of The Red Hat Club, a novel, libeled her former friend by basing a character in the book on her - going so far as to even identify her actual neighbors - and adding that she was a right-wing, atheist, sexually promiscuous alcoholic.

Not a combination of adjectives you see every day.

Unsurprisingly, the victim was upset. Surprisingly, she won and was awarded $100,000 in damages.

This is surprising because normally in the US works of fiction enjoy great latitude - publishers are protected by the plausible deniability of having published the work "in good faith," plus there's that little disclaimer at the beginning of each novel where it specifically says it's a work of fiction and not to be construed as fact.

One news article pointed out that many famous writers based their characters on people they knew. Writers such as Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

That doesn't mean they got away with it.

In 1911 Britain, a "little-known actor" sued an author whose story was appearing in installments in a weekly paper. He felt one of her characters, an actor, was libelling him. She protested that the character was "purely fictitious."

He won and was awarded $1,000 in damages. (over $23,000 now)

The author decided "as a protest against and in ridicule of the English libel laws, under which it has become dangerous for an author or publisher to use the commonest names in fiction, lest persons bearing similar cognomens should take legal proceedings" to release her novel with all the names changed to famous people's. (After asking their permission, of course.)

G.K. Chesterton, author of the Father Brown mysteries (among many other things), thus became the name of the book's "fiery-tempered lover."

In fact, Chesterton responded to her appeal with, "You can rely on me to bring no libel action. You may depict me as a burglar, or as a man who steals pennies from the blind, or a beggar, or even as a politician."

Very cool dude.

Colonial Coffee House

Guess what the newest exhibit at Colonial Williamsburg is - a coffee house!

From The Washington Post:
"Now [Williamsburg] is home to the modest Charlton's Coffeehouse, built from scratch on historic foundations and billed as the only 18th-century coffeehouse in America."

"At some point in the 1760s a young immigrant named Richard Charlton used the building -- adjacent to the Colonial Capitol -- as a coffeehouse, serving a brew that likely would have tasted burned and bitter to the contemporary palate."

Back in the day, coffee was a man's drink and men hung out at the coffeehouse like it was an intellectual pub. The American Revolution was planned in coffeehouses.

From The Metropolitan Museum of Art:
Colonial coffeehouses, following the London model, became powerful social catalysts, providing an excellent forum for the exchange of ideas and the distribution of news.

And, of course, people drank coffee at home -- along with tea and chocolate. In case you've ever wondered about the difference between a coffee pot, a tea pot, and a chocolate pot:

This is a chocolate pot.

Notice the removable finial - attached to the body of the pot by a chain so it isn't lost.

Chocolate pots have removable finials because the thick colonial cocoa needed to be stirred before it could be poured.

"A molinet, or stirring rod" would be inserted in the hole revealed when the finial taken off.

This is a coffee pot.

Coffee pots are "tall and tapered, with a curved pouring spout and a wooden handle to protect the pourer's hand from the heat-conducting metal."

And this is a tea pot. Tea pots, as the song says, are short and stout.

Tea was also an important beverage in colonial America leading up to the Revolution.

Remember, when the tax on tea was levied without their consent (no representation), outraged colonists reacted with The Boston Tea Party (December 1773).

You don't mess with a person's cuppa. :)

Remembering Henry

The Red Poppy is the symbol of Remembrance Day, 11 November. Remembrance Day was started in 1919 as Armistice Day, to honor the end of The Great War. The War to End Wars.

Which came to be known as World War I.

After World War II, the name was changed to Remembrance Day to honor the dead of all wars.

This year is the 91st anniversary of the end of World War I. Did you realize that? I only know because last year - the 90th anniversary - was covered extensively by the BBC. They put up amazing content on the BBC website. Why don't US news organizations have similar content?

Possibly because in the US this is known as Veterans' Day, when we honor living veterans of war. The US has Memorial Day to honor its war dead.

Personally, I think we should nominate another day as Veterans' Day and return November 11 to Remembrance Day. Why? I am so glad you asked.....

We are traveling back in time to the final days of The Great War (this is great as in BIG HUGE GINORMOUS, not great as in cool). No one is winning and the cost in human lives has been enormous. It is agreed between the warring nations that an armistice should be called. An armistice is when countries just stop fighting. No one is the winner. No one is the loser. They just stop.

This cease-fire is signed at 5:00am on the 11th day of November, 1918.

But the war didn't end.

Because this had been The War To End All Wars. Millions of people had died.

Quoting from the Imperial War Museum:

"One in three families in Britain had a loved one killed, wounded or taken prisoner. In other warring nations, the figures were even higher; France lost nearly a million and a half men – double that of Britain – while nearly two million Germans and a similar number of Russians died."

They couldn't just end the war and walk away - not with all those dead. Their deaths had to mean something. There had to be something, something memorable, that people could point to and say, "This is when the last war ended."

They chose 11-11-11. War would end at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month.

So they KEPT THE WAR GOING until 11:00 am. MEN DIED so that we would have the symbol 11-11-11.

Of course, we all know war didn't end. But what is even more tragic is the fact that soldiers died for a symbol that is no longer remembered in the US.

Quoting from the BBC:

"The respected American author Joseph E Persico has calculated a shocking figure that the final day of WWI would produce nearly 11,000 casualties, more than those killed, wounded or missing on D-Day, when Allied forces landed en masse on the shores of occupied France almost 27 years later."

Wrap your mind around that, if you can.

And if that didn't blow your mind, this will: Again quoting the same BBC article: "What is worse is that hundreds of these soldiers would lose their lives thrown into action by generals who knew that the Armistice had already been signed."

Yup.

For example, the 89th American Division was sent to take the town of Stenay by a general who knew the Armistice had been signed, but he'd heard that Stenay had bathing facilities. And apparently he couldn't wait until 11am.

"That lunatic decision cost something like 300 casualties, many of them battle deaths, for an inconceivable reason," says Mr Persico.

Those were American casualties, did you notice? They died because of a "lunatic decision" and for a symbol of which most Americans aren't even aware.

In fact, the last soldier killed in action in World War I was an American boy from Baltimore. He was shot at 10:59am. His name was Henry Gunther.

Does he get a mention over here? Not that I'm aware of. We don't even have a moment of silence at 11:00am. Because it isn't Remembrance Day for us.

"No man surely has so short a memory as the American." - Rebecca H. Davis

Prove her wrong. Today, remember poor Henry and all the others who died for 11-11-11.

Guy Fawkes Day in Colonial Boston

November 5, 1765

"This was the anniversary of the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot, in which Guy Fawkes figured, in 1605.

Pope's day, however, originated in 1558, on the accession of Queen Elizabeth.

At first, the Pope and the Devil were the only pageants, but it afterwards became somewhat changed. These anniversaries had long been celebrated in Boston, and for several years the competition between the North and South Ends, had caused two celebrations.

The programme on these occasions, was to form processions at headquarters, and march through the streets, collecting contributions as they passed, to carry on the celebration ; and woe to them who did not contribute.

A pageant accompanied the procession, consisting of figures mounted on a platform on wheels, and drawn by horses. These figures generally represented three characters, — the Pope, Devil, and Pretender, with sometimes the addition of obnoxious political characters.

(The Pretender was James Francis Edward, and his effigy was added in 1702.)

Under the platform were placed half-grown boys, with rods extending up through the figures, to cause them to face to the right or left, and to rise up and look into people's windows. In front of the procession might be seen a fellow with a bell, who notified the people of their approach, and who would chant something like the following: —

Don't you remember the fifth of September,
The Gunpowder treason and plot?
I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.

From Rome to Rome the Pope is come, amid ten thousand fears,
With fiery serpents to be seen, at eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

Don't you hear my little bell, go chink, chink, chink?
Please give me a little money, to buy my Pope some drink.

The two celebrating parties in Boston, after having marched about town, generally met near the Mill Creek, where a desperate fight would ensue for the possession of the effigies, and bloody noses and broken bones were often the result.

If the South (End) were victorious, the trophies went to the Common;
if the North (End), Copps Hill was the rendezvous, where the pageantry was burnt.
This year the two parties formed a union, and union Pope was celebrated till the Revolution."

- From A Chronological History of the Boston Watch & Police by Edward Hartwell Savage

Halloween and Pagans

Yet again, people with good intentions are out on the walking mall trying to save the souls of Halloween celebrants. And once again I have to laugh.

Because Wiccans don't celebrate Halloween.

Wiccans and pagans in the Celtic tradition celebrate Samhain (most commonly pronounced Sow (ow as in ouch) - inn). This ancient holiday is considered New Year's Eve on their wheel of the year.

It is also considered a time when the veil between this world and the next, the Otherworld, is thinnest, so spirits of the departed can cross over and come home. You're not going to be traipsing around the neighborhood when you're expecting company. You eat a silent, reverent meal, thinking of the departed, and leave goodies - foods they liked - outside for them.

Enter the Christian era.

Samhain (which is properly November 1st, but the Celts counted their days as beginning the night before, so November 1st actually starts the night of October 31st) shares its holiday with All Saints' Day.

Just like it sounds, All Saints' Day is a feast day to remember saints and martyrs. These are "hallowed" (blessed) people. So this feast day was also called All Hallows' Day. The night before it would then logically be All Hallows' Eve, eventually to become Halloween.

I have heard it said that people came to believe because All Hallows' Day was a saintly day, the angry/jealous forces of darkness walked abroad the night before - which is how Halloween got its spooky/dangerous vibe.

In any case, over time, an evening that had been about welcoming your dearly departed became an evening to be feared.

In the modern age, this mostly took the form of children playing "tricks." A night of vandalism that you could blame on the forces of evil.

The Turner Classic Movies TV channel periodically runs a short, black & white film about Halloween customs that was made in like the 1950s, and it attributes the "trick or treat"-begging-for-candy-around-the-neighborhood tradition to a deliberate movement in small towns. The town leaders wanted to organize children into doing something positive (or at least parentally-accompanied) on Halloween rather than being purely destructive - a movement which caught on across the country. Whether you believe that old film or not, Halloween today is generally celebrated as a sugar-feast day where children collect all the candy they can.

Unless you live in Salem, Massachusetts.

In Salem, Halloween is much like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Only without the beads. And it lasts for a month.

You'll find adults wearing costumes more often than children. And all month long, not just on Halloween.

There are street musicians, street dancers, street vendors...the air smells of grilled sausages and fried dough and roasted peanuts.

You can get kitschy witch stuff or you can meet actual, self-proclaimed witches.

You can also visit the Memorial to the victims of the Salem Witch Trials - who are probably spinning in their graves (if we knew where their graves were) about all this. Sometimes we forget that these people were so NOT witches that they would not say they were even to save their lives.

But let's return to the street party.

On Halloween itself, people of all ages in all sorts of costumes join the scrum that is downtown. 100,000 people are generally expected, especially when Halloween lands on a Saturday. Add that to the 40,000 townies and you can barely move on the sidewalk.

Yet a jovial, friendly atmosphere is maintained. Everyone smiles at each other. Strangers compliment other strangers' costumes. For that large a number of people, it's very Woodstock. Peace and love.

The only sour note you will find are the few people - probably from miles and miles away - who come every year with bullhorns that scream and garishly large placards that proclaim how we are all going to Hell. Because we're downtown dressed in costumes for Halloween - and that must mean we're godless pagans and Wiccans.

I always laugh when I see them because what they don't understand is, in this veritable sea of humanity, there are NO PAGANS.

Nope. NO WICCANS. This group has come all the way out here to literally preach to the converted.

How do I know? Because for pagans and Wiccans, this is still Samhain. A serious holiday of reflection. Where one cooks for the dearly departed and stays home quietly and thinks about them.

They aren't the hedonistic partiers. It's the rest of us.

Historical Truth

In the professional world of historians, there is some debate over the presence of truth in history. (For those of you who are students of history, this concept will come as no surprise.)

The idea is, other than dates of events, all else is filtered through the person relating the fact. We are all prisoners of our own time periods. How we tell a story reflects who we are and when we live, and thus is a snapshot of us - and should be used by historians to study us, not the "facts" in the story we're trying to tell.

This concept is used to good effect in A Sentimental Murder by John Brewer. Instead of looking for the objective truth of what happened in this historical true crime murder mystery (which is essentially unknowable), he looks at how the telling of the murder changed over the centuries depending on who was doing the telling, why they told the story, and when they were telling it.

It's really quite fascinating, if you're into that sort of thing, and I recommend it.

Cougarism

"He is what you might call a "chick chaser." That, I believe, is the term for old guys who choose 'em very youthful. Old girls who like young men are called "veal hunters." Thus the English language is enriched every day." - Damon Runyon, 23 January 1927

And thus proving there have been cougars, and nicknames for them, for a long time now. I definitely prefer the term cougar, though, don't you?

Prince Albert's Prince Albert

From the Archives:

Yes, we're back to piercing again.

This is sort of a tangent off of my Victorian Breast Piercing Research - it's male piercing. If you don't know what a Prince Albert piercing is ... try Wikipedia.

You will find many websites - and even books - declaring that this type of body piercing was so named because Prince Albert (married to Queen Victoria) wore one. You will find them saying that these circular piercings were also known as "dressing rings" and that they were used to secure oneself to the left or the right leg.

Dude. Seriously?

I mean, think about it, what would it be tied to? Your thigh? And it would have to be a slip-knot because, really, just think if the string got caught on something.... [rrriipp] That's painful just contemplating it.

And we haven't even addressed the fact that, in the real world, if you need to be tied down to your thigh, then perhaps you're having one of those episodes the Cialis commercials warn about and you should be proceeding to a hospital at once.

The British Victorian period may have been more risqué, but in the US, you couldn't actually say the word leg because it was too inflammatory - you had to say limb. Cereal was invented because, the belief was, giving a man steak and eggs for breakfast was just asking for him to be aroused all day. The same for Graham crackers - non-arousing steak substitute.

In that climate, how could a gentleman possibly face his needs-to-be-protected lady wife with a piercing amidst his unmentionables and expect remain considered a gentleman?

Another thing: according to The Piercing Bible by Elayne Angel (p. 156), the healing time for a Prince Albert is "4 to 8 weeks or longer". Now, in a time when infection could not be reliably controlled, who is going to pierce themselves anywhere - let alone somewhere that delicate?

Are you beginning to smell a hoax?

In her book, Angel confirms my suspicions that Prince Albert did not have a Prince Albert, as does Matthew Sweet in Inventing the Victorians.

So why do so many people think he did? Where did this "dressing ring" thing get started?

According to Angel, these stories were made up by a man who called himself Doug Malloy (real name Richard Simonton). He is considered the father of modern piercing culture in the US.

He also made bags of money franchising Muzak. Not three words you'd expect to find in the same sentence are they, "body piercing" and "Muzak"? Go figure.

(Muzak, by the way, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy on Feb 10 2009).

I can hear you asking, why? Not why the Muzak bankruptcy, but why would someone make something like that up?

Apparently, the answer is: Because it makes a great story.

If you are promoting a new fad, it helps with promotion to have that fad possess a fun historical background. It gives it roots. Validity.

And stories are the bedrock of culture. It doesn't matter how unrealistic a tale is, as long as it makes a great story. Think of all the urban legends you've heard.

This seems to be why the Prince Albert story has legs - why it has spread so far for so long.

We humans love to tell each other a good story.