Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to remember the life of an American icon, hero and man. A macho man. The Macho Man.
Macho was an icon. The world looked to him for advice on everything from fashion to nutrition. He taught us that it’s okay to never wear a shirt as long as your arms and legs were covered with tattered pieces of fabric. And if you’re forced to wear a shirt, just make sure it is covered in your name and a pattern so busy that people will encourage you to remove it after all. And to keep your body looking good shirtless, he taught us the true basics of nutrition. Goodbye Food Pyramid of yesteryear. Hello Food Stick of todayyear. Who would’ve thought that you could have a balanced diet from eating one simple food repeatedly throughout the day? I know you all know what I’m talking about. The magical superfood: the Slim Jim. Of course the government doesn’t want the world to know about its dietary completeness because it would put so many corporations out of business… the same corporations that get presidents elected. But Macho knew better. And he struggled with his campaign for dietary health until the day he retired from life.
Macho was a hero. He saved lives. If I had a Slim Jim for every time he saved mine, I’d be able to save the lives of all the starving children in the world. I remember one time I was on a road trip from Chicago to Milwaukee for Summerfest. It was guaranteed to be a great time. I was with my best friend, Matt, and we were playing the celebrity game as we drove up 94. Let me just say that fun was being had. But about 45 minutes into the hour and a half trip, I suddenly realized something. I had not eaten in nearly 45 minutes, and I was starving. Possibly to death. Luckily we’ll never know because I recalled the advice given to me so many times before by Macho himself through our television communication device (that’s how we were able to keep in touch while he was off campaigning for healthy eating). I’m sure you’ve all heard the same advice, as he was always one for education through repetition. Please, say it with me (conduct all attendees in unison): “Snap into a Slim Jim. Oh yeah.” Well, upon recalling the advice, we pulled off at the next exit, found a Speedway with a mini mart, burst in the door and I snapped into six Slim Jims. One after the other. Oh yeah. As Matt kept the irate cashier at bay, I focused on letting the nutritional TNT enter my bloodstream as quickly as possible. Finally, as the stomach pains threatening oncoming death diffused, I took a deep breath, pointed to the sky, and thanked my hero, Macho.
But above all, Macho was a man. A macho man, yes, but also a simple man. And a gentle man. He always carried himself with grace and dignity, without stifling his true personality. If ever there was a man you’d want to take home to meet your mother, Macho was that man. He found enjoyment in the finer things in life: French wine, imported cigars, stained glass… He always had the best taste in all things cultural. And he cared about others. Whether beast, child or woman, he always put them first. He’d even carry women on his shoulder, to keep their heals from getting dirty. Even indoors. He just always had an extraordinary zest for life… which is why his departure from our world is all the more upsetting. And I can guarantee that he will forever be remembered… as The Macho Man.
Wesley Sherman
May 25, 2011
