I asked for questions. Y'all responded in kind. Without further ado, then, here's the first edition of Uncle Larry's Magazine Rack Funtime Family Mailbag. Some are reproduced verbatim, some are a composite of 20 variations on the same query. Now, leave me alone.
I have no idea why the publishers decided to compromise the stalwart Muscle & Fitness brand by slapping it onto a generic women's magazine. And it doesn't help that Muscle & Fitness Hers gives me so little to work with. In every way, from its hyperactive design and layout to its by-the-numbers gal-mag staples, the title reeks of desperation from each of its well-oiled pores.
In my years on this planet, I rode a motorcycle precisely once. It was in Boston during the fateful spring of 1995, when a pal and I needed to get to Fenway for the annual 11 a.m. Patriot's Day game. It took goggles, elbow, knee and wrist pads, an athletic cup, several helmets, and a fistful of mild sedatives before I'd get on the bike. I recall crying a lot.