Three Is a Magic Number by Steven Uhles: Bad is Good
I’ve had questionable behavior on my mind a lot this week. Not necessarily because I chose to indulge in it – although I’m not saying I didn’t – but because so much of our dialogue seems to revolve around the wrongs that people do rather than the rights.
For me, the easy antidote would be to write about things worth celebrating – victories of the human spirit and that sort of thing. A glass-half-full edition of the Magic Number. Instead, I’ve decided to take a slightly different route. While I refuse to become a part of the chorus of stomping feet and gnashing teeth that greet each perceived injustice, I do find our acceptance of institutional mischief, mayhem and misbehavior amusing when observed at just the right angle. Here is this week’s Magic Three.
Being Brat
For the uninitiated, Being Brat is the Catchphrase of the Summer. It refers to a certain subset of society that, while not actually bad, is willing to embrace and celebrate behavior that might otherwise raise an eyebrow. Think about those times when, despite having work the next day, you went out with friends. That was being Brat. Think about those Sundays you celebrated, perhaps encouraged by the Willie Nelson tune, with an early morning Bloody Mary. Again, Brat territory. Brat apologists – like the singer Charlie XCX who coined the term – will argue that it is an easy assignation for those strong enough to embrace life’s inherent messiness. I’m not sure that is true. I’m also not sure it matters. I asked my children if I could possibly be considered Brat. The answer was a resounding no. I don’t think they meant it as a compliment.
The Race to the Future
I’m currently reading Kassia St. Clair’s outstanding “The Race to the Future: 8,000 Miles to Paris – the Adventure that Accelerated the Twentieth Century”. While the title could have clearly used an edit, the book, about a 1907 car race from Peking to Paris, moves like crazy. And while I have found this true story’s insights into early automobiles, cultures that quickly shift and disappear and the trials of travel engaging, what has kept the pages turning is the always-fascinating stories of not great people doing not great things for, you guessed it, not great reasons. Whether arrogant B-level royalty or well-heeled con artists, the ‘protagonists’ of this story are never particularly heroic and perhaps cause more issues than they solve. But like the reality television personalities that would emerge decades after this rally’s conclusion, they prove that there is something in human nature that encourages us all to both engage and disapprove of those flawed at their moral center.
Biting Medals
I love the Olympics. I always have. I love everything about it. I love the thrill of human achievement and the opportunity to learn the intricacies of obscure sports. I love the travelogue aspect and, this year, I’ve loved being able to spend a little quality time with Snoop Dogg. But there is one thing I hate. I hate it when athletes, standing proudly on the podium, bite into their medal like it’s lunch.
Stick with me. Here’s why.
While sources seem unable to pinpoint when the first Olympic athlete did the gold medal chomp, it is widely assumed that it was inspired by the once-common habit of biting into a gold coin. The practice, which thrived until the 19th century, was a quick test for counterfeit currency. A real gold coin, being made of a softer metal, would show dental imprints when bitten. A fake, made of an alloy or plated in gold, would not. People bit into coins because they didn’t trust the guy who gave them their change. It was an act of fiscal cynicism.
Which brings us back to our Olympians. While they may be unaware of why metal – or medal as the case may be – biting began, they are still aping that behavior. In biting their medal, whether they realize it or not, they are reenacting a moment of distrust. Distrust in humanity and distrust in the validity of the coin of the realm – in this case an Olympic medal. That seems to work against everything the Olympics stand for – sportsmanship, the thrill of competition and, yes, Snoop.
That bites.
