That which I resist
After wrestling last night I thought, "I wonder what kind of soap Jake uses. It smells really good on my skin." Of course, I mostly stank like sweat, but still, under everything else, I could smell the soap of my opponent.
This happens more than one would think. After rolling, I stand in front of the shower as it warms up, and I think, "Aaron switched shampoos," or "Ryan needs to use less hair product." It's one of the many reasons that I love wrestling, and a reminder that when I engage something in close combat, I take some of that thing onto myself--my wrestling opponent's sweat and personal care products, or a little of the anger from the Religious Right, or a little of the attitude from the person with whom I am debating health care reform.
(With apologies to Jake, Aaron and Ryan.)
This happens more than one would think. After rolling, I stand in front of the shower as it warms up, and I think, "Aaron switched shampoos," or "Ryan needs to use less hair product." It's one of the many reasons that I love wrestling, and a reminder that when I engage something in close combat, I take some of that thing onto myself--my wrestling opponent's sweat and personal care products, or a little of the anger from the Religious Right, or a little of the attitude from the person with whom I am debating health care reform.
(With apologies to Jake, Aaron and Ryan.)