There are some things too intrinsically good for even the most jaded hipster to reject. Little Debbie cakes, classes that have no finals and Johnny Depp come to mind immediately, but chief among these perfect ideas and/or individuals is Lance Armstrong.
Now really, how could you not like this guy? He manages to survive cancer of a sort that makes biking even less comfortable, and then goes and wins six straight Tour de France and dates Sheryl Crow. And then there are the yellow bracelets.
For $1 you can purchase a yellow, “Live Strong” band. All proceeds go to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, which helps cancer sufferers worldwide. On Nike’s website, Lance is attributed with the Coldplay-esque quote, “Yellow has taught me the true meaning of sacrifice. Yellow makes me suffer. Yellow is the reason I’m here.” I could have sworn it was chemotherapy, but who am I to argue. The burgeoning popularity of the bracelets is practically begging for a drinking game; even John Kerry and John Edwards have been sporting them lately.
I am in no way opposed to these bracelets. They provide a refreshingly secular alternative to the WWJD bracelets of bygone years, and there’s simply no arguing in favor of cancer. Nevertheless, these bracelets pose an intriguing question: when can you take it off and what would this mean?
You don’t see many people wearing their WWJD bracelets anymore. Do they simply no longer care what Jesus would do? Maybe one night Jesus decided that those kids shouldn’t go out drinking, so they decided to ditch that loser Messiah. Perhaps it has turned out, after some reflection, that He would rather they be wearing a rubber band with “Live Strong” stamped on it.
All the same, when can they possibly take it off? A removal would imply a change of stance on the issue. If Kerry is seen out on the campaign trail without that yellow band, will he be seen as a flip-flopper on the all-important cancer issue? If my editor at the Voice comes in tomorrow without his yellow bangle, do I just assume that he is in favor of the disease that killed two of my grandparents? Does that mean I can turn in my articles late?
Georgetown, in the constant rush to imitate pop culture (those Georgetown-as-alcohol-brand t-shirts really never get old, do they?), has already developed a scheme to profit from these ornaments. HoyaBands, a subsidiary of CollegeBands Inc., a company started this summer by a pair of enterprising Hoyas, are out tabling ‘til Thanksgiving, selling pairs-only pairs-of blue or gray bands. A portion of the profits will go to a number of university projects, including the reintroduction of an outdoor track to the Hilltop (what is on top of Yates anyways?).
Now before you rush out to Red Square to fork over your $5, consider the consequences: these may be 100 percent silicone rubber, but they also seem to bear a 100 percent commitment to that track. Will you be morally required, barring some horrible track and field accident, to wear those bands for the rest of your life in some hellish slavery to the furthering of Georgetown’s sports program? Weren’t the years of dealing with Craig Esherick enough purgatory?
Banding probably won’t develop into any sort of deep philosophical issue among the American populace. Eventually the Live Strong bracelet will go the way of the smallpox anklet and the polio ribbon. But until that cure is found, I’m watching your wrist. If that band isn’t there, I’m calling up Lance and telling him what you really think of cancer.
