Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Signs That I Am Not Much Of A Man, Part 2 Of 3

Unlike most men I see....


I rarely play sports anymore, and I don’t watch or follow games at all. I own a couple of old Cardinals t-shirts, but I rarely wear them. I don’t know anything about the NFL standings or college draft picks, or who won the Heisman. I am aware of the NCAA Basketball Tournament each March, because the ads are all over the grocery stores, but I haven’t watched a game in many years, and I couldn’t tell you who won the last one. I don’t know who won the last Super Bowl or the last World Series. As near as I can tell, the only difference between the NBA and professional wrestling is the ball. I like World Team Tennis, and Vania King is my favorite athlete.
Mighty, mighty Vania King.

I don’t whistle at women who walk by. One, I can’t whistle, and two, as a married man with seven daughters, I learned long ago that ogling women is degrading, to them and to me. I notice women, I suppose, more than I notice men, because there is nothing attractive about men. I might notice a woman’s hands, or hair, or even a nice shape, but I don’t stare after women. Generally, my reaction to most females is “put some clothes on.”

I know nothing about cars, except where to put in the gas. I wouldn’t know a carburetor from a solenoid, and I had to look up how to spell both. I know what an antitragus is but not a carburetor. I know a Mustang when I see one, and Volkswagon Beetles, but otherwise I can’t tell the make or model of a car unless I’m close enough to read the emblems on the back. I’ve driven nothing but mini vans for about three decades, which is fine by me, and I haven’t had a moving violation since 1985.

My bedroom is two shades, pink and burgundy, with white trim. There are not one but two ruffles around the pink bed (I painted it myself) and doilies everywhere, with embroidery and plates and hats from the 50s on the walls. There is lots of lace, three hat boxes, a basket of linens, several quilts, bowls of jewelry and a handful of dolls of various sizes. And I like sitting in there.

Read Part 1.

Read Part 3, tomorrow.

2 comments:

  1. Most of your comments could be about George. I think we are together and I love him because he is comfortable with his manliness without having to prove it.
    Once his cousin's husband teased him about changing my daughters diaper. He was about 26 at the time, and he looked up at him and said "if I had to stop and worry about if changing my daughters diaper was a manly thing to do, then I wouldn't be much of a man would I?" I loved him forever for saying that. He changed more diapers that I did, got up more times with the babies that I did, and has done more loads of laundry in our marriage than I could only dream about doing (not that I dream about doing laundry) He loves to cook and is not ashamed to admit that.
    He would rather watch something on Masterpiece theater than any sports event. His current favorite is the modern Sherlock Holmes version.
    If anyone asked him about the game during football season he would reply no, was there a lot of home runs?
    He reads biographies, most if not all of the Tom Clancy books, Robert Ludlum and Le Carrs books as well.
    He has read some of my John Sanford books the Prey series and likes them as well. He would rather read a book than watch TV.
    I have changed the great room from a dark green and red to light green and raspberry and pink and he is very comfortable in that room. He likes the light tones and is happy that I am happy.
    I am happy that I never had to worry about a gun in a house or a stuffed trophy hanging on the wall or in the garage like when I was a child.
    I like your blog John. It is interesting and thought provoking.

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    Replies
    1. Hi Kathy. Good for you, and good for George. He sounds like my kind of guy.

      I have a brother with four children, and he made a point of changing one - and only one - of each of their diapers, but that's all. He really missed out, in my opinion. I loved taking care of our children, especially when they were babies.

      When our granddaughter Lucy was here, Kelly and I would fight over who got to change her, but eventually it became less of a battle, as Lucy was quite, um, prolific at times. I love giving babies baths, and I love fixing meals. Kelly is reluctant to give that up, though.

      Personally, I think there is nothing more manly than having a child call you "daddy."

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