modern man
if i were a man, what kind of man would i be.
i might be medium-tall with eyes. hard to tell what color. (all my brothers: brown or green. all my sisters: blue or hazel.) i would be a reader. and selectively athletic, quick and full of stamina. but this is the how not the what.
i would be the kind of man who looks people in the eye. i would try to refrain from slamming other lesser kids into lockers and later, i'd pay attention not to puff up to protect my ego. a real stud knows plain ol self-confidence is the best pheromone. laughing at self is a bonus; it adds inches to anything worth adding inches to >>wink<<. and i should hope i'd pay attention to my grooming. nails are important: skanky dirt in crevices...bad bad news. i would not be obsessed with balding; if or when it happens i'll handle it. but not at first. baby steps with that shit.
i'd get a little paunch at 40, 45. not a tire. a self-respecting paunch. 5 pounds. 10 max. i'll justify it by figurin i got the equivalent to my own personal set of d cups within reach at all times (that's about what my girlfriend's weigh anyway) - just a little lower on me and with some haywire distribution.
till then, i'd be very careful not to look too sloppy. i might not have the split calves and six pack of my youth but i do alright. feeling good in general helps.
i don't subscribe to any religion. grew out of it. besides, i'm too linear and rational for it, looking to prove my own way. but spirituality and self-awareness don't have to end in amen. i believe in the power of language and life example to affect change. i believe in the ultimate power of love. i've been called a good man, but i want to die a great man. it's difficult because it means remaining vigilant to my own bad habits, all the vices we let slide because we can. i wouldn't admit it often, i've broken a lot of rules, those i'd still break are made by men. those i'd rethink are made by women. probably mothers looking out to protect the rest of us good-fer-nuthins. and crazy as it sounds, i think i actually did learn almost everything i need to know by the time i was five. there are three golden rules besides the one golden rule: nude is better. friends forever. if you have to pay to get it, it may not be worth gettin. that last one has made me into a generous guy; it always comes back to me. don't get me wrong, though: mess with what's mine, you'll regret it. i didn't learn how to street fight for nuthin. i won't start it but if i have to, i'll finish it.
i have a hard time letting you have the last word, even if it means i sleep on the couch. a man's gotta swallow his pride from time to time but not at the expense of his ideals. somehow, though, i never sleep on the couch anymore. in the end, i'd rather be loved than right. it's been a hard lesson. and it's tough to say, anyway, how long right lasts. it changes on a dime or in a look.
manhood is hard to come by. but when you do it right, it awwwright. i thank my ma mostly. my dad, he provided the lines, i guess. i just had to color outside of em to find myself.
and yeah, i dabble with guitar. not because of the chics anymore. i just like it. it soothes and challenges me. it's like building a fire. i guess that's when i really feel like a man. sounds funny, but it's true. knowing i made that stupid roaring campfire. nothing like it. except maybe falling asleep with my baby. she loves me. plus, if my ma were alive, she'd dig her. necessary bonus.
i might be medium-tall with eyes. hard to tell what color. (all my brothers: brown or green. all my sisters: blue or hazel.) i would be a reader. and selectively athletic, quick and full of stamina. but this is the how not the what.
i would be the kind of man who looks people in the eye. i would try to refrain from slamming other lesser kids into lockers and later, i'd pay attention not to puff up to protect my ego. a real stud knows plain ol self-confidence is the best pheromone. laughing at self is a bonus; it adds inches to anything worth adding inches to >>wink<<. and i should hope i'd pay attention to my grooming. nails are important: skanky dirt in crevices...bad bad news. i would not be obsessed with balding; if or when it happens i'll handle it. but not at first. baby steps with that shit.
i'd get a little paunch at 40, 45. not a tire. a self-respecting paunch. 5 pounds. 10 max. i'll justify it by figurin i got the equivalent to my own personal set of d cups within reach at all times (that's about what my girlfriend's weigh anyway) - just a little lower on me and with some haywire distribution.
till then, i'd be very careful not to look too sloppy. i might not have the split calves and six pack of my youth but i do alright. feeling good in general helps.
i don't subscribe to any religion. grew out of it. besides, i'm too linear and rational for it, looking to prove my own way. but spirituality and self-awareness don't have to end in amen. i believe in the power of language and life example to affect change. i believe in the ultimate power of love. i've been called a good man, but i want to die a great man. it's difficult because it means remaining vigilant to my own bad habits, all the vices we let slide because we can. i wouldn't admit it often, i've broken a lot of rules, those i'd still break are made by men. those i'd rethink are made by women. probably mothers looking out to protect the rest of us good-fer-nuthins. and crazy as it sounds, i think i actually did learn almost everything i need to know by the time i was five. there are three golden rules besides the one golden rule: nude is better. friends forever. if you have to pay to get it, it may not be worth gettin. that last one has made me into a generous guy; it always comes back to me. don't get me wrong, though: mess with what's mine, you'll regret it. i didn't learn how to street fight for nuthin. i won't start it but if i have to, i'll finish it.
i have a hard time letting you have the last word, even if it means i sleep on the couch. a man's gotta swallow his pride from time to time but not at the expense of his ideals. somehow, though, i never sleep on the couch anymore. in the end, i'd rather be loved than right. it's been a hard lesson. and it's tough to say, anyway, how long right lasts. it changes on a dime or in a look.
manhood is hard to come by. but when you do it right, it awwwright. i thank my ma mostly. my dad, he provided the lines, i guess. i just had to color outside of em to find myself.
and yeah, i dabble with guitar. not because of the chics anymore. i just like it. it soothes and challenges me. it's like building a fire. i guess that's when i really feel like a man. sounds funny, but it's true. knowing i made that stupid roaring campfire. nothing like it. except maybe falling asleep with my baby. she loves me. plus, if my ma were alive, she'd dig her. necessary bonus.
posted by stacy muszynski at 11:35 PM
9 Comments:
damn, this was brilliant. never thought what i would be like if ever the tables turned.
so....
how are you different as a woman?
no wanger to worry about, plus i don't think about doin someone all the time. i think about other people's needs or desires in tandem with my own - someimes more often than my own. people expect me to shave and be thin. i cry in front of others. i can wear makeup freely. sexist, racist, classist jokes usually aren't as funny to me (at least one person i know would claim it's because i have moral objections). i have at times felt weighty fear when a man or men have followed me; rape is not just a four-letter word to me. i think about the generation after the generation after the generation after the next generation. i'm expected to be the exotic dancer before i am expected to date her. the culture supports any efforts i may make to 'marry up.' on average i can be expected to make less money than my counterpart.... oh! i do more research in order to feel prepared. i have finally come to learn that if a man is talking to me, he's interested. and my breasts are better.
and i've never believed in fighting...that's what sport is for. and the only street fighting i knew i learned when i was 14. never had to use it except on the kid who taught me. proof i learned what he taught me.
Uhhhhh...I think you're my hero.
sean, you are a smart smart man. ;)
now, back to the would be man woman: i don't play guitar. i've only built one fire in my life. and i in no way could be accused of thinking linearly.
except of course when i'm obsessing or compulsing. which still isn't linear. it's more whump whump whump on the dead horse.
very cool and well written, man.
Hot damn! Me and rest of the men of the world have talked about it (we gather when all the women go to the bathroom together) and we've agreed unanimously to make you an honourary man.
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