I have never seen so many shirtless guys in my life as I saw this afternoon. Even counting the very best episodes of COPS. I don't know what the deal was today, but it seemed men who really shouldn't be parading around bare-chested were only too willing to put it all out there, sharing their complete lack of shame or inhibition.
It started right out of the parking garage on Wilshire with an EXTREMELY bronzed older man roller blading down the sidewalk in front of LACMA. Usually that sort of thing is confined to Venice Beach, maybe he got lost. The flesh-fest continued in Hancock Park, then into Koreatown, and into that part of Silverlake that isn't infested with Yuppies. Even downtown had shirtless guys, who for some reason all seemed to be riding bicycles. My tour got interrupted by the 110 - no shirtless guys on the highway - but then when I got to Pasadena it started all over again with two different guys mowing their lawns. Their own lawns, which just doesn't happen in SoCal. The ultimate spectacle, though, had to be the chubby kid in the Speedo running around outside the aptly-named Vagabond Inn. Today was a smorgasbord of inappropriate displays of man-boobs, love handles, and grody chest hair. And one gnarly Speedo.
It's not even particularly hot, not even for LA. Must be something in the water.
But this does raise an interesting question, one that has perplexed philosophers for millennia. To wit: Without the perceiver, does the perceived exist? Would all those fat guys without their shirts on have even been there if I wasn't also there? Had I not been passing by in the truck, would the street have been empty? Or even better, have those fat, shirtless guys always been there, and I just happened to notice them this afternoon? Did the fact that I happened to see one at the beginning of my commute color my perception enough that I became hyper-vigilant, attuned to the slightest glimpse of a hairy nipple? If one does not see the fat shirtless guy, can that fat shirtless guy be said to exist at all?
That's philosophy right there. You can tell by all the question marks.
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Oh honey, they exist.. Try being a witness to one sitting in the back of a redneck red pick-up. You're simply driving by and he starts flexing his muscles at you like he's the Incredible Hulk in a body building competition. Maybe he thinks that's a way to pick up a hot chick, but all you can do is hold in your laughter as you keep driving by.
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