Alright. You’ve backed me into a corner and dropped catnip. Now anything is possible, including the dreaded mansplain.
I assume you were not being tongue in cheek when you wrote this piece. Perhaps I’m the dense one (this is what I am told on occasion, and by AHW—no TM).
If this was not the case, read no further...a waste of your time, which I know is precious. But maybe not anyway...
When you were making reference to the screwy boy and his inability to understand, you were also speaking to a general curse many of the male species suffer from, but not all (BTW, also in reverse for the female—but that’s for another time). You asked for questions so that you would have topics to write about in your AWH (TM, this time) column. I suggested a question: What makes it so difficult to find such a woman in the first instance (in so many words)...
So that you might devote a column to the question.
Not that I mind our little convos. Au contraire, I love our get-togethers. I wish there were more of them. I wish I were ten-or-so years younger, had the “hot” body you crave and lived in California again (that, probably, most of all—no hard feelings—but I’ve known the deprivations of The South far longer than your genteel laughter).
To the point: I engaged, fully, with the female gender—and other genders—at an extremely early age. And did so in the manner of most males. As a result, I was slapped around profoundly. However, having done so at the early age, and often—and being relatively intelligent, not wanting to be slapped around any longer and desiring that human contact sans the slapping around—I began asking the crucial questions viz:
“What do I have to do to make this stop?”
Honestly? I don’t know what makes men like the skinny runt tick. Nor why he cannot function appropriately around women. Why he feels that thinking of them almost (?) exclusively as objects is natural. Perhaps it is, simply, stupidity.
I’ve been around long enough (you, too) to know that a vast percentage of humans are, simply, stupid.
But I do know that, if one can move beyond one’s common stupidity, as a male, there are always Human Women available to speak with and gain knowledge from about them and one’s self. Always.
Now, I’m going to have some more coffee, even though my doctor, a male, tells me I shouldn’t. We’re all going to die anyway, right? My coffee comes from a women’s socialist collective in Peru. Every drop helps them, and they let the tiny deer eat the leaves off their coffee trees. The deer are smaller there because they are closer to the Equator. I don’t know why that is but if I ever get to Peru I will ask those women to explain it to me. I’m sure they’ll know.