Wednesday, May 2, 2012

The Real Man And His Worm

I'm not an American man.

I don't spend hours each day just quoting movies at other men. I've been stood in a group of men at a gathering and had to endure the 20 minute conversation about cars, then another 20 minutes about computer processing speed followed by another 20 minutes of just quoting things from movies I've never seen. I don't wear cologne and chew tobacco (a very popular combination around here). I don't care at all what I drive. The very idea that a mini van is emasculating is insane to me. I don't go out drinking. I don't even stay in and drink. I have never made a comment about a particular kind of bourbon being the best. I don't care about college sports in any way whatsoever. I've never felt dickless because my wife earns more than I do. I don't own a gun nor have I felt strong and male when I've fired one. I can't fix small appliances or automobiles - nor do I care at all that I can't. I don't play video games so that I can feel like a marine. I don't think there are some intrinsically masculine foods or understand the idea that certain vegetables are girly. I don't think there are boy colors and girl colors - especially when brown looks better than any other color.

I don't own boy-toys, man-gadgets or and of that crap. Nor am I interested in any way in having a, "man cave" - a name that in and of itself suggests hamster-smuggling whenever I hear it. I don't have tattoos, although I did have a nipple and my lower lip pierced during my early twenties. I've never said, "that's what she said." I don't have a favorite porn star nor do I think that the apparent ideal of women on network television here is attractive at all. I don't care if my wife wants to drive nor do I feel obligated to drive because I'm a man (although my wife's unbounding laziness tends to have me driving 99% of the time anyway). I don't think beer pong or ultimate Frisbee is anything other than sadness personified. I don't think I've ever eaten Manwich or a Hungry Man TV dinner. I don't know why someone would want to eat a T-Bone steak and associate that with masculinity. I've never thought about shaving my chest. I've never refused help because I can't start a fire or don't know where I am. I've never picked up a specific size of tool someone has asked for without having to read very closely what is written on it. I've never high-fived anyone without irony - and I certainly haven't chest bumped anyone ever.

I don't own basketball shorts - which make anyone that is wearing them look deformed and like a five year old boy. I certainly don't own a basketball jersey or an NFL football shirt. I have no desire to own a motorcycle like a Harley Davidson, nor do I understand why one is different from a bicycle or a horse. I don't pay for sports on cable or own a huge HD television to watch it on. I have no clue why anyone would go to a beach during Spring Break - it just seems massively annoying. And I've never proudly taken a slash in someone's driveway/backyard because - damn it - I'm an American man and that's what we just have to do sometimes.

All of which might help explain why my son gayly crept away from a terrifying inch-worm - before running away in a panic from passing traffic.

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