I had a Charlie horse. That is what old school football curmudgeons called everything from a sprain to a compound fracture. If they saw no bone protruding from the skin, it was a Charlie horse.
“Rub it down,” said the manager. He kept our team patched up with enough athletic tape to play hurt through the next game. No one ever questioned his medical credentials. No reason to. He had none. I can’t complain, though. No one died.
The assistant manager – his underling manservant – rubbed a glob of Atomic Balm on my calf before practice. Two feet north, my butt was on fire from the fumes of this emulsion. I went from Charlie horse to flaming ass in seconds.
Large tubs of Atomic Balm and Cramergesic sat like Civil War canisters on metal shelving, waiting to go off on some sore soul. Both products were rumored to possess the ability to cure every ailment from contusions to cancer. The eye-burning, mentholatum-fueled analgesic aroma would burn unsuspecting nostril hairs into little nubs three rooms away, offering instant verification that future pain would soon be leaving arms shoulders, backs and my leg, possibly taking a little bit of leg with it. The sheer smell of this elixir would scare bruises away. I heard that Atomic Balm had stopped a pack of rabid dogs from attacking an old coach once near Kinston, Alabama. The crazed canines roamed out of a clearing as he was chalking the yard markers. The whiskered old ball coach had rubbed Atomic Balm generously on his bent and sprained back. The dogs sneaked up behind him to attack. Didn’t happen. The scent of A Balm, froze the four-legged foamers in their rabid tracks. Even in a Charlie Mansonoid fog, the dogs knew better than to tangle with Atomic Balm. It was said the dogs went down to a local Pentecostal church and laid their teeth on a few members of the congregation setting up a picnic before the preacher sent the howlers to their final reward (the dogs, not the chewed-up church goers) with a 12-gauge Browning semi.
The inventor who concocted these Cramer muscle relief products didn’t name them based on cream puff properties. Besides alleviating pain, Cramergesic and Atomic Balm could, on occasion, remove hair from the afflicted area – just burn it right off, smooth as a baby’s butt. If memory serves me correctly, Atomic Balm removed a portion of a linebacker’s sideburn as he tried to tackle one of our running backs who was wearing a generous application of the cream – on the outside of his pants. He claimed it made him run faster. No doubt. Defenders tend to leave you alone if tackling you leaves them with a face-full of MenthoLucifer.
I Googled Atomic Balm and Cramergesic and found out that the Cramer company still makes both as well as an even stronger item call Red Hot. Red Hot? Are they joking? How could it get any hotter than Atomic Balm? I saw a tub of Red Hot on the Cramer website. I swear I could smell it through my laptop screen.
If past experiences with Cramer’s other products are any indication, this Red Hot cream would likely repair a broken neck or severed limb. Rubbing it on your chest could give a person Habanareola, for sure. Red Hot analgesic ointment is described with these words: “Cramer’s strongest penetrating heat. Long-lasting petrolatum base. Read warnings for safe usage.
I don’t know what petrolatum is, but I can vouch for the company’s products and their penetrating heat. I promise you, the importance of the warning should not be ignored. I am not a doctor, nor should anyone subscribe to my medical advice, but I’m fairly sure if you were having a heart attack, Red Hot penetrating heat would stop it in mid contraction. I would be willing to bet that no one wearing Red Hot has ever been attacked by a shark.
I used to keep a big jar of Cramergesic under the sink for emergencies. Any emergency. Maybe a fire, hurricane, flood, or all of the above. And none of those things ever happened. Proof that this stuff works.
