I have serious doubts as to whether I am being all that I can be as a man, or indeed all that I ‘should’ be. Not that there are rules about such matters but sometimes the observations and comments of others leave me feeling less than adequate.
By being a ‘man’ I especially mean being a man of a certain age. I base my observations on the things in life I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in. As follows are some of the elements of life about which I should be enthralled and yet I find myself wavering between apathy and disdain (and sometimes even contempt) depending on the circumstances.
At the same time I bear no malice towards those who favor such things. I’m a friendly guy and I like people to feel at their ease when in my company. So, if you want to go into raptures about your boring fucking golf game don’t anticipate me to pee on your parade. I’ll even refrain from citing Mark Twain who described golf as a way of ruining a perfectly decent walk.
I guess for me it goes back a long way. I remember telling a kid some factoid of information when we were in about 9th grade – junior high being the most repulsive stage of human development – and he asked me how I knew that.
“I read it,” I said, and not in a smug way. I mean, I wanted to say it in a smug way, but that’s not my nature.
“Read it?,” he said, a look of disdain crossing his ‘challenged visage, “Is that all you do is fucking read?”
All I could do was shrug, palms out. I mean, how was I supposed to deal with that?
Otherwise I was as normal as could be expected from a 14-year-old boy. I liked girls. I mean, I really-really-really-really liked girls; I was longing for the day I got my driver’s licence, which meant I liked cars; I liked rock-and-roll; I liked parties; I liked TV; I liked movies. Oh, and I liked to read, and I read a lot – adult books, not juvenile-oriented ones.
Now, by my age here is where I sit about certain aspects of life:
– Sports in general: Pretty much as per golf. I really don’t give a rat’s about what team does anything. I don’t know those people so why should it matter to me?
– Entertainers’ lives: Like athletes, I don’t know them so I don’t care what they do, what drugs they use, how much they drink, who they are screwing, what their sexual preferences are, and in that I’ll add to the fact that when I look at magazine covers at the supermarket I don’t know who at least 80 percent of them are, so why should I care. I do care however when a supreme talent like Mr. Hoffman decides to end his live by a badly-considered decision. There are performers I like and admire so I’d rather they stuck around.
– Socializing: I’ve concluded I never was a partier. Back in my drinking days I numbed myself and too often made a horse’s ass of myself and that was mainly due to shyness, I have realized. If I socialize I like small gatherings of maybe us and another couple or two other couples and I hope everybody calls it an evening early.
– Friends: I don’t have a vast array of people I would call close friends. Scads of acquaintances, but my charmed circle is few. My friends too are both male and female. I have a teeny handful of blessed male friends, and actually a slightly larger handful of blessed female friends.
– cars: Some people obsess about getting new vehicles on a regular basis and go into raptures over them. I drive a rather elderly car and I love it and it still runs well, so I don’t give a damn about getting another.
– electronic crap: I am writing this on a nice laptop that I recently bought to replace my other one that had packed it in. And that’s pretty much me in the world of electronics which I find to be a massive bore. My cellphone plan ran out a while ago and I haven’t replaced. I have never texted, or sexted, for that matter.
Otherwise, I am still an outgoing and friendly chap who is comfortable with his own company and periodically interacting with people he holds dear and I hope they are around forever. And yep, I still really like girls.