I would like to introduce you folks to someone special. Although we have never met (and never will), despite the great ideological divides that separate us, Duke Cannon and his signature “Big Ass Brick of Soap” has captured my heart and attention for the past few weeks.
The Duke came into my life during the roadtrip back to state college, at a time when I dreaded the coming of the semester. We made a pit stop at the Bass Pro Shop that would fatefully expose us to the rugged, frontiersman soap line meant for woodsmen and outlaws. Purportedly, the fictional Duke Cannon doesn’t “wear skinny jeans or listen to Europop”– instead, he greets each day with a trademark gruff attitude that is so overtly masculine, it is hard to imagine the human being whose brain he came out of. He even has a soap bar dubbed “Illegally Cut Pine.” Needless to say, he is my new favorite fictional felon.
And, well, haven’t I done the same?
I bought this soap while returning to college, and I believed it to be an act of pure satire; I was committed to the bit of this silly soap man. It was obvious to me that Duke Cannon was the manifestation of the reticent, old-fashioned mindset that longed for an idealized version of simpler times. But upon seeing it, I thought: that has a place in my apartment next year. That has a place in my someday-home; that’s how funny it is. And as I was driving back, heavy with the weight of the semester ahead of me, having that light thing to imagine in my future was a little bit nice.
And, yes, it might be true that I tested the soap on my skin to see if it would work for me– entirely ironically. It’s a joke, totally a joke, and such a joke in fact that I plan on keeping it, using it, and buying it again if I run out. It has become a part of my mental picture of what the coming year will look like, much like college was for me just last year– living with my friends, cooking for myself, joking about this silly man and his large soaps.
I laughed and laughed at his obviously ridiculous idealism– but I bought his soap, so who’s winning?
Certainly, I am not subscribed to the Duke Cannon Lifestyle (TM); I don’t own any of his Offensively Massive Lip Balms or his Mall Santa Christmas soap collection. I do not even keep my woodcutting axe at school– what kind of an arboreal vandal am I? Even so, we are joined by this unerring optimism that slips itself into the mundane. I cannot help but think of my life with a little romance and idealism, even as I call it silly– even as I laugh.
I should get to laugh at it more, rather than treating the end of break as the pause of a richly textured life. I want to entertain the woodsman’s zeal for all things silly and small, even at college.
Is this a silly way to rediscover the sparkle in everyday life? Perhaps. Did I need a fictitious woodsman to inspire me to enjoy the mundane? Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt. Treating college like a task has obviously been wearing me thin; what if I instead treated it like an adventure, with all the romanticism that my good friend the Duke seems to enjoy? Perhaps it is time to take a page out of his book.
I might hold off on the illegal woodcutting, though. I’m not sure if the folks at the Arboretum would understand.
I first want to applaud you and your writing style. I loved the colorful words you used and the way you balanced humor with sophistication. The piece was very entertaining and enjoyable to read. I loved how symbolic this bar of soap has been for you lately. It is ironic how the items we seem to purchase as a joke or items we swore we would never buy, are often the ones that comfort and strike us the most. I think it is important to not get bogged down by the difficult aspects of college. Yes, school is crucial to our futures and is valuable in many ways, but our mental health should always come first, or at least not be an afterthought. Even if you do not use the soap as you go-to hygiene tool, I am glad it has taught you this valuable lesson in relaxation and escapism.
Thanks for the feedback, Ava. :V May Duke Cannon be with you always
At no point during this post did I know where it was heading, but I kind of enjoyed the mysterious lore behind this soap. Ironically, I also bought a “Big Ass Brick of Soap” prior to returning to State College, except I bought the Naval Diplomacy variety which is nowhere as entertaining as illegally cut pine. Nonetheless, I never would’ve thought a blog post about soap would be as entertaining as it was, thanks to your unique style.
I bought the Naval Diplomacy variety for my brother, actually. It was too good to pass up; plus, he works on submarines, so it was All There, contextually speaking.
I’m glad you enjoyed my soap escapade 😀
First off, your blog made me crack up! The number of ideals that go into this bar of soap, paired with the fact Duke Cannon has an entire market of items, was hysterical. In addition, your word choice as to how you delivered your message brought humor to the blog post. One question I had for you was when did Duke Cannon become this fictional icon? I tend to think I live under a rock and don’t know the “trending” items, even if it’s this $10 bar of soap!
I’m not sure Duke Cannon is trending globally, and in fact, I believe that his persona is allergic to the idea of being popular online. Now that I know about him, he is everywhere I look. Join me as I am ambushed by his masculine soaps in every Dick’s Sporting Goods for the rest of my life.
I must admit, about two paragraphs into your blog post I stopped reading and had to double check where I was, because up until this point I’d only read posts about music, songs, movies and sports. I was convinced I must’ve clicked on a wrong link or ended up reading some out of context review. Never once had I seen a blog post written about a bar of soap. Yet, as I read on (after confirming that this was in fact a passion blog) I found myself more and more drawn in by your writing style. It was incredible how you managed to bring a story and a bit of an analysis out of something as simply as a novelty soap, and in my mind even more incredible that it was interesting to read. I know for a fact that if I was tasked with writing this same post, the end result would have been far less entertaining, and truth be told I probably wouldn’t have finished reading it. Hats off to you and I look forward to seeing what other obscure topics get featured in the upcoming weeks!
Okay, that is pretty hilarious. I’m glad you got to share this soap journey with me; when the post was flying out of my fingers, I was not sure it would make sense to most people that the bar of soap on my desk was about life, and college, and finite choice. Very glad to know that it has reached a target audience of at least 1.
I hope I’ll see you next week.
Hi Leah. I wanted to read one of your blog posts and actually ended up reading about 5 before I decided that this was the ideal post to comment on. I had heard a bit about your newfound obsession with Duke Cannon soaps briefly, but I don’t think that I ever truly got the full picture (so here I am!). First of all, I loved how you decided to stop at a Bass Pro Shops on the way back to school of all places. Secondly, I’m honestly not quite sure how brands like that are actually in business. Despite the high price tag and out-of-this-world branding, I don’t know anyone who goes to Bass Pro Shops to buy their soap (except you I suppose…?). Anyways, I enjoy the fact that you spent a good 10 dollars on an exceptional bar of soap, and hope to see your axe at school next year.
I will absolutely be bringing Something to school next year: most likely my growing Duke Cannon Soap collection. I’m glad you got to page through this blog awhile; it has really served me well! Thanks for taking the time, Christina 🙂