Don’t be a Sissy-La-La

/ Jeff Cann

One of a million conversations over the years between my brother and me: “Well I think you’re wasting your dime. You won’t hear back from them. Stamps cost thirteen cents now.”

“The advertisement says they’ll send me the booklet for a dime.”

“That comic book is five years old.”

Me: Scrawny, tiny, waiflike, weak. Compared to my friends, most of whom were one or two years younger than me, I was small, even next to them. Skinny, like a stick, like a twig. At twelve, that matters. Other boys were fitting up, girls noticed. At sixty-one, this sort of thing still matters, but being too thin is no longer my concern.

My brother was right, my comic book, Ritchie Rich, was at least five years old. No twelve-year-old would buy that. It’s a little kid’s comic. Ritchie Rich chronicles the adventures of the wealthiest child in the world. They tagged the front cover with the catchphrase “the poor little rich boy.” I’m not sure what attracted me to this comic, maybe it was my training manual for white privilege. Regardless, not throwing it away after I outgrew it, that makes perfect sense. I never threw anything out as a kid. In the fifth grade, I bought a souvenir pair of wooden dice from Colonial Williamsburg. I still own them.

On the inside back cover of my Ritchie Rich comic book sat a full-page advertisement for Charles Atlas’ bodybuilding program. The advertisement included a photo of Charles Atlas in a leopard print speedo bathing suit. By 1970s standards, the guy was huge, with his shoulders, chest and abdominal muscles so bulked up, he could have fit two of me inside him. “Send me a dime, I’ll send you my booklet.” The rest of the ad, which ran exclusively in comic books, scouting magazines and other boy-oriented periodicals, was a comic strip titled “The Insult That Made a Man Out of Mac.” Here’s the script:

Big Lug: {playing ball on the beach kicks sand on Mac and Mac’s Relatively Hot Girlfriend (RHG)}

Mac: {With what I assume is a pipsqueak voice} Hey, quit kicking that sand in our faces!

RHG: That man is the worst nuisance on the beach.

Big Lug: {Grabs Mac by his scrawny upper arm} Listen here. I’d smash your face only you’re so skinny you might dry up and blow away.

Mac: The big bully! I’ll get even some day.

RHG: {Patronizingly} Oh don’t let it bother you, little boy. (Seriously, this is what she says).

Mac sends away for Charles Atlas’ serialized mail-order books demonstrating his Dynamic Tension method of body building, which is essentially pushing and pulling against immovable objects—walls, doorjambs, opposing body parts (such as one hand against the other). In the next scene, Mac is ripped. In ‘seven days’ he added seventy pounds of muscle. Back on the beach, Mac punches the Big Lug on the end of his chin and knocks him out cold.

RHG: Oh Mac! You are a real man after all!

Even Hotter Girl on next beach blanket: Gosh! What a build.

Do you find it amazing that this works? Looking at the “Made a Man Out of Mac” Wikipedia page, a whole list of male celebrities, including several boxing greats, graduated from the Charles Atlas program. How many noncelebrities did? How many at least sent away for the free booklet? The world is crammed with skinny boys like 1970s-me hoping to get swole so we can intimidate men and attract women.

Even though I stiffed the company three cents on postage, they sent me their booklet. Charles Atlas laid out the basics, explaining in general terms why Dynamic Tension worked. Too many years have passed to remember any specifics, but there was something about how cats can jump many times their height even though they don’t exercise—they just press their front paws hard against the floor when they stretch.

The Atlas program was so simple, so obvious, I never paid to receive the books, because I figured it out for myself. For about three days I pressed my palms together, wrestled against doorjambs and stretched like a cat. Then I stopped altogether and remained a skinny little kid until I found beer five years later. It took me another five years after that to get in shape, but I did that at a Nautilus fitness center lifting weights, not trying to bench press my car.  

The message from the Atlas comic is disturbing. Without big muscles, you’re not a man. The heyday of the Charles Atlas program ran from the thirties into the eighties. This is the fodder generations of boys grew up on. It’s no wonder today’s vocabulary is rife with hyper-masculinized phrases such as “man-up” and “grow a pair,” or my all-time favorite, once directed at me because I didn’t want to sign up for a 10K that had over 30,000 participants, “Don’t be such a sissy-la-la.” Testosterone! Testicles! Pectorals! These make the man. These attract envy and admiration… or so I learned as a child.   

Since my carpal tunnel surgery a month ago, I can’t do my normal exercise routine of pushups and weighted rows. Now, every morning, when I finish my sit-ups, I lie on the floor, first on my back and then on my stomach, and do a series of Dynamic Tension exercises. Not because I want to get ripped like Charles Atlas and Mac, no one would ever mistake me for swole, but simply because I want to show my muscles that while I heal, I still remember they are there. Fifty years later, I’ve learned this Dynamic Tension thing really works.

36 thoughts on “Don’t be a Sissy-La-La”

  3. Forgive me, I had to chuckle at Charles Atlas… I saw that black and white picture with leopard print bottoms and his promise to make a man and my brain immediately cross referenced that song from Rocky Horror Picture Show.. Dr. Frank N Furter singing…🎶 In just seven days, I can make you a maaa a a a an🎶 😂

    I didn’t get into comics until after I got married. My husband at the time had a ton of them that I wasn’t allowed to touch, they were collector’s items, so I began reading graphic novels to see what the big deal was and was immediately hooked.

    I wish I had the chance to read his though. He’s been collecting since he was a kid. I hope they make him a mint. He owes me money! Lol

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    • I’m not very familiar with the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but 7 days to be a man seems like it was cribbed directly from Atlas. 🙂 I had a box of comics that I lugged around for years as a young adult and I finally gave them to a coworker’s kid. I actually think some of them may have been valuable, 1st issues and whatnot, but pre-internet, who knew.

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      • I do believe that Dr. Frank N Furter mentioned Charles Atlas in the song. He says he carries the Charles Atlas seal of approval 😆. I don’t know if the link will do the thing but maybe, copy and paste it to your browser at your leisure.

        I bet anything we have pre-internet is valuable to someone. Collectors are everywhere.

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  4. Congratulations Jeff, you tied up all the elements of this piece very neatly. 🏋️🏋️🏋️
    It provoked several memories, the most enjoyable of these being sitting behind the counter at my Grandmother’s newsagency reading Richie Rich and every other comic for free. Thus I saw lots of those Atlas ads, but possibly I ended up ignoring them because I could run faster than all the bad guys at my Primary school.
    At High school, I added cigarettes to speed to help ward off evil doers.
    By and large that worked.
    ~
    Anyhoo, the length of the article made me assume that the carpal tunnel surgery worked. I hope so.
    🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬

    DD

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  6. I love the arc of your story, Jeff, and am glad you’re finding ways to exercise after carpal tunnel surgery. There was … and still is … so much we were told about masculinity through popular media and peers that gave us a narrow view of what it meant to be a man. I think lots of young men are really confused. I know it took me a long time to discover my true self in a hetero-centric society.

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  7. I also associate Atlas & “making a man” with Rocky Horror😂 You should watch it. I think your family would enjoy the campy humor and music

    I guess the swole look has always been admired🤷🏼‍♀️ Michaelangelo’s David wasn’t “scrawny”.

    It still amazes me how offensive all these things we took as normal are today. It gives me a glimmer of hope that we humans may not be totally doomed😂

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    • “It gives me a glimmer of hope that we humans may not be totally doomed” Of course half the US population thinks this is Politically Correct BS or worse, WOKE! Plus every day, MTG seems to tell someone to grow a pair. I saw the RHPS once at a midnight theater showing, but that’s been decades, I remember almost nothing (mostly because of the time that has passed, but other reasons might be involved as well). Sophie might like it. Eli would freaking hate it. Yesterday he was trashing an episode of Family Guy we were watching because the physics didn’t make sense in the time-travel plot they presented. He’s just not a fantastical kind of guy.

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  8. Wow, Jeff! I remember that ad vividly… been 50 years since I’ve seen it. Even even then it struck me as unhealthy to say the least, although I didn’t have the capacity to put my feelings to words as you have so eloquently done. The good news is that it took a while, but I survived and outgrew such a toxic view of what it means to be a man. As always, thanks & peace.

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  9. While I wasn’t really into comic books as a kid (my dad refused to pay allowance so I was always broke and couldn’t afford to collect them), I definitely recall the Charles Atlas ads in the few comic books I did have. As a skinny, bullied kid, I was more drawn to the mail-order karate courses found in comics. How cool to learn karate and beat the crap out of those kids who bullied me at school, right? Being 12, I was too young to order the course (minimum age: 16), so I fibbed about my age and sent off for the info. Alas, the course itself cost actual money (something I didn’t have), so that dream died a miserable, withered death, and I remained a skinny, bullied kid. Oh well. 😀

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    • I’m finding a universal truth in this post. I think so many of us saw ourselves as that scrawny kid. I guess that’s why the Atlas program endured so long. I’ve actually been doing dynamic tension exercises for a month now since hand surgery and they seem to be keeping me fit (or improving). I’ll probably stick with them when I can return to my normal exercise routine.

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  11. Man up is the worst command. Kind of glad I didn’t have boys for that reason alone, as I probably would have said it. I liked the imagery of you as a kid pressing against door jambs and trying to get strong like a cat, that’s funny! And nice imaginative topic for a post too. I know it can get hard keeping it fresh and probably not lapsing into stories about our doctors visits right? Be well and have a nice week with the family Jeff.

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