My Mom used what she called The Spankin' Spoon. It was a stainless steel slotted spoon normally used for dishing out food and leaving the juices behind.
She remarked that the slots left marks that would not soon be forgotten. By golly, she was right.
She was a fluids engineer too: The slots provided channels for the air to flow through, thus creating more bat velocity.
So, you got style meeting substance, less wind resistance and a stylish set of grill marks on your ass.
I had a very, very good football coach in HS. Coach Heaston. He would carry the ‘Golden Shaft of Discovery’ with him at all times. It was an anodized gold target arrow, which he’d hold by the fletched end.
One way of teaching your offense line to get off the ball in a timely manner was by measuring the number of stripes on your ass as the ball was hiked. If he could land three (by the way, perfectly parallel and distinct) stripes, you were sitting on the bench.
One meant you were a candidate to start. Zero meant you were likely going to be all-league.
I’m telling you, not having corporal punishment in school has been a bad thing. Not a single one of us felt abused. Getting stripes meant he gave a crap about you. Only the very bad players didn’t have stripes, and it meant you hadn’t committed yourself, and didn’t merit coaching.
Guys would walk in the shower looking like some was keeping score on their legs (from top of cheek to just above the achilles). I remember my mom being horrified, and my dad telling her to basically stuff it. “He came back from practice with all his teeth right?”
Remember when men were men and women were just still confused. Today, their just as confused, but more strident about their position on things.
Yikes! Good thing She didn’t have a Hibachi to turn it into a Branding Spoon.
I’m guessing that the Wooden Spoon might not be so bad after all.