Back in the good old, free-wheeling '90s, I amused myself one crisp winter afternoon by erecting a 7-foot snow penis (it was a slow weekend). It being my first attempt at snow sculpture, I was surprised at how realistic it turned out --- (well, realistic disregarding scale, that is). Those contours, that detailed symmetry, the throbbing, gristly veininess of it all -- OK, I'll just come right out and say it: I was proud of my giant penis.
Now, I'm not just anybody's fool. I knew that there are people in the world who might fail to appreciate the humor and irony of a giant snowbone. That's why the venue I chose for this particular artistic installation was not, say, in the middle of a public park or elementary school playground.
No, I built my gigantic one-eyed hip snake in my own back yard, discreetly near the house where it was obscured by foliage, so that only I and a few select guests could enjoy my enormous snowdong.
But, wouldn't you know it? The very next day, the phone started ringing. One by one, the neighbors complained that, if they stood on tiptoe and peered through a gap in the fence, it offended their standards -- the philistines.
Finally, after a particularly stiff call from Mr. Tinfoil*, the No. 1 asshole neighbor who, that year, was also a mayoral candidate in that little tax-dodgy incorporated enclave and a Very Important Man, I realized I had no choice but to camouflage my humongous glacial flesh torpedo.
So, I tied a scarf around it and stuck in a carrot and two pieces of charcoal. There was no corn-cob pipe or button nose, but I did manage to transform my colossal frozen John Thomas into a "snowman" standing at attention and staring up into the sky.
The phone calls stopped and, as an added bonus, none of the uptight neighbors ever spoke to me again.And now the lyrics of a popular old Primary song take on a new poignancy:
Once there was a snowman, snowman, snowman;
Once there was a snowman: tall, tall, tall!
In the sun he melted, melted, melted;
In the sun he melted: small, small, small.