Strength of the Stallion

My wife is a family practice doctor, and although she’s not my doctor (that would be weird, and I don’t want her to be the boss of me in any more aspects of my life than she already is), she’s pretty involved in medical decisions that affect me (okay, she’s the boss of those decisions).

That’s why I just got a referral for acupuncture for my messed up back; and I’ve started taking a ton of supplements, including one known, intriguingly, as “Strength of the Stallion.” Usually my wife’s role in my medical care is more subtle. She’ll tell me what to ask my doctor when I go for a checkup, or, when necessary, she’ll tell me what to gently suggest to him so he can achieve the outcomes that have been elusive thus far. It’s mostly helpful.

Every year, my wife has to go to a couple conferences to stay up to date on medical developments and trends. Usually she picks pretty interesting ones, but they tend to be on topics like reproductive health or diabetes that don’t really affect me.

But the conference she went to last weekend got her all fired up about fixing me. It was about “integrative medicine”–mixing holistic and alternative practices with Western medicine to maximize health benefits. My wife was enchanted by a lot of charismatic speakers who looked really good for their age, including somebody named Dr. Low Dog, who is great advocate of this stallion juice I’m taking now.

If you’re like me (which is to say “childish”), mention of the word “stallion” makes you go “huh-huh” like Beavis and Butthead, due to its connotation of virility and sexual prowess. So that’s exactly what I did when my wife announced my new regimen of supplements.

But I also felt a little hurt that she thought I was lacking in the stallion department. I was all, “Am I not a strong enough stallion for you?” And she was like, “A stallion can never be too strong.”

So I did a little research, and it turns out this stuff is supposed to increase your libido, but that’s just an ancillary effect to its main claims of greater energy, sense of well-being, sounder sleep, boosted immunity, and so on. A standard elixir.

But why is it called “Strength of the Stallion”? Well, the translation from its Indian name, Ashwagandha, literally means “smell of the horse,” and I guess some clever herb-mongers thought that needed a little tweaking in order to be more marketable.

I’m perfectly willing to try this smelly supplement. What could go wrong? If my inner stallion becomes too strong to control, I’ll just back off on the dosage. Meanwhile, does anyone know of any powerful New Age deodorants?