In ESPN The Magazine’s Sept. 17 Franchise Issue, writer David Fleming profiles Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers and his rise to franchise quarterback status for one of the most storied NFL teams.
The feature reveals Rodgers getting a kick out of his offensive line’s chronic flatulence almost causing a photo shoot to close down. I think Fleming portraying Rodgers’ appreciation for the delight that flatulence can bring is humanizing; it at least humanizes Rodgers and makes the multimillionaire of the team I don’t root for seem more likeable to me. The dude is down with a good bout of pharting. What’s not to love about him?
Wait, no need to misspell it.
That should be “farting.”
There, I actually said the word “fart” again here at hittingthesweetspot.
If there were any doubt this is my personal blog and only my opinions, I hope this post finally lays these concerns to rest once and for all.
I am a risk taker—no guts, no glory, as they say. As long as done tastefully, I think a blog post on farts and farting is ripe for mass professional and recreational consumption, not to mention market-ready for all demographics.
The world does not know what it needs sometimes and what it needs now, more than even an iPhone 5, is to play and fart and yes, enjoy itself while doing so.
To that end, you can start out by reading this post in its floral entirety.
Stand-up comedians have long known that when they are not exactly killing it, it could be time to break out a few feces and urine jokes, or at least some fart humor.
The late, great George Carlin did some wonderful fart shticks that can be found on YouTube, and I encourage you to look for them. Please finish reading this post before doing so, especially if you are the kind of person who is compelled to always be right on top of things and is afraid of missing a fart.
I don’t feel I’m losing you quite yet at this point, so I’ll soldier on…
The problem with the world at large, or at least many in this country, is how anal-retentive we can be as a society. The thing with farting is that we are taught to control it, or at least not engage in it in mixed company, public places or even the workplace (unless you telecommute, in which case, feel free to toot away in your home office).
This attempt at corralling farting might be fine save for the fact farts have a mind of their own.
Many an awkward moment presents itself when someone thinks they control their own destiny.
Farts are humbling that way.
Farts are part of the ecology.
But more than anything else, farts are funny.
We need a good laugh more than ever, too.
Some years back I attended a holiday party. It was a very festive celebration with good food and great people. People have fun during the holidays and are in, and into, great spirits. Some go off their diets. A couple of women were saying their goodbyes at the end of the evening. One who was lactose-intolerant and had tried a dairy-based parfait dessert was being hugged by her friend. Not a few seconds into the hug, Ms. Lactose-intolerant lets off a long-winded, audible and proud-sounding measure of gas as she is being squeezed around the waist.
“I’m so sorry,” she says embarrassedly.
I was nearby, pretended not to notice, but thought no one should have to apologize for a fart. It’s not like it killed anyone. Laugh and move on (quickly), I say.
Another time I was in a car with my girlfriend waiting to pick up her girlfriend. The car was idling when suddenly I hear what sounds like the peep of a church mouse. Come to find out it was “Shelly” farting.
“I never, ever do that!” she gasped.
I do have to admit that up until this time I had never actually heard one of hers. She sure looked shocked and appalled at her windy surprise.
Sometimes you have to know when to hold them, and the look on her face told me now was one of those times. Not that I was holding one of mine, I just said nothing to her in response. Now that I look back on it, though, returning serve could have been bonding.
People who knew I might cover farting here advised me not to back myself into a corner by letting this topic overwhelm me. I think corners have been just the kinds of spots where farts have traditionally gone to roost.
To this end and like any good fart born to adventure, I am undaunted by my lack of exit strategy.