"No, Virginia, I hate to break this to you, but CBS lies, the concepts are false. Snowmen can’t dance. They have no rhythm. They just stand there and succumb to the elements. Viagra won’t help." Rose A. Valenta
Frosty the Snowman has been making headlines. Not “corncob pipe and button nose” headlines, but rather the “thumpety thump thump” variety. We once had a pet rabbit that we named "Thumper" for a similar reason - he had a wood chip fetish.
I don’t know which is worse, the “mushroom syndrome” of my generation or the pop culture of today. Both teach false concepts.
With mushroom syndrome, you were kept in the dark about everything and not told about sex until you reached the age of 18, unless you asked. Life was simple and you were simple minded. Network television was censored and anything aired during prime time had to be family-oriented. You never knew for sure if there was a toilet in Beaver Cleaver’s house.
By the time you were 12, you began asking questions like “Do you think Santa will get my letter?” and “Do you think my snowman will run away during the night?”
People had a sense of pride in those days. My grandmother, who was a professional baker at The Olean House in NY, found a recipe for "Mock Apple Pie" on the back of a box of Ritz crackers. She was curious.
She pulled down the shades before she made the pie, so the neighbors wouldn't know.
In today’s pop culture, we find CBS broadcasting to the world that Frosty not only has a silk hat and dances around, but he also has a porn collection. Although, I can’t imagine what could be in a snowman’s collection – sexy shaped icicles? Snow people created by everyone, who is in the sex offender database in the neighborhood? I’m not sure if Google can map the sex offender database to a GPS, so that you can track down all the creative snowmen in their back yards, while you're out cruising and enjoying the Christmas lights. All I know is at least one of them has infiltrated CBS.
"Look, Harry, we should try that position when we get home."
By the time pop culture kids reach the age of 12, they aren’t asking any questions. They are blogging movie reviews. “Bad Santa” is at the top of the list. Grandma has either a butterfly or flower tattoo, and a license to drive a Harley Fatboy.
No, Virginia, I hate to break this to you, but CBS lies; in either case, the concepts are false. Snowmen can’t dance. They have no rhythm. They just stand there and succumb to the elements. Viagra won’t help.