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Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … October 29th, 2016
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Man: I just saw this guy that was really pissed off.
Woman: What was the problem?
Man: Well, he held the door open for this lady and she waltzed through without smiling or saying thank you, so he called her the “b word.”
Woman: You mean “bitch?”
Man: I don’t like to say that word.
Woman: Unless you get angry enough, right?
Man: That’s not fair.
Woman: You know what’s not fair? When men or women do kindness to one another and attach onto it the notion that they are performing this graciousness because the other party is inferior.
Man: I don’t know what you mean.
Woman: It’s the difference between being considerate and condescending.
Man: Give me an example.
Woman: It’s like that guy you saw. He held the door open because he looks at women as weaker vessels who need to be treated carefully and given space.
Man: What’s wrong with that?
Woman: It’s coming from his head. It shows that he thinks females are not as capable as he is. The same thing’s true if he buys his girlfriend flowers. She may not like flowers. But she’s supposed to like flowers because it’s built into our system that men can manipulate women with flowers. Or guys who buy women drinks at a bar. They figure by putting ten or fifteen dollars into an investment, they can purchase her time and affection.
Man: I don’t get it. So what should a guy do to show that he’s honoring women?
Woman: Stop honoring us and start accepting us. For instance, it’s all right for a woman to hold a door for a man.
Man: Maybe. But it feels weird.
Woman: Why? Because women can’t open a door?
Man: No, that’s not what I’m saying. Tension exists between men and women, so any piece of courtesy should be revered as helpful.
Woman: Wow. That sounds weird. The truth of the matter is, it’s not considerate if you think you’re going to get something off of it by doing it. Then it becomes condescending. It’s like giving two dollars to a homeless person and then chatting with your friend about how you didn’t think he or she appreciated it enough. What are homeless people supposed to do? Jump up and down? Quote scriptures? Hug you around the neck? Speak in tongues?
Man: No, just be grateful.
Woman: So how grateful should they be for two dollars? What are you expecting? What do you need to happen when you hold the door open for a woman? Must she admire you and think you’re a knight in shining armor? Or is it just a door? There’s nothing wrong with being mannerly if it is your manner. But if you’re being mannerly to try to control other people it’s condescending. And that goes for women, too–women who think men are incapable of sharing their feelings, so they check out their emails to find out what they’re thinking. Equally as despicable.
Man: So what do you think we should do?
Woman: I would rather you be rude to me and have it be natural than have you think you’re my superior simply because you opened a door for me. That’s not considerate. It’s condescending.
Man: Give me another example.
Woman: Chick movies. I’ve heard you say that one. There’s no such thing as a chick movie. There are good movies and bad movies. For instance, girls went to see Star Wars and Silence of the Lambs. And boys like to watch date movies like Love Actually when they allow themselves to escape their silliness of fear.
Man: You have to admit, there are things that women like and things that men like.
Woman: I will not admit that. Just like I won’t say that all black people like watermelon, all Mexicans make tortillas and all Chinese people like to sit around and do math problems. It’s condescending under the guise of considerate.
Man: So what do you think men and women should do when interacting?
Woman: Practice being natural until it’s natural, and until then, keep practicing. Alternate who opens doors for each other. Let me buy you a drink. How about this time I carry the extra bag of groceries instead of you. It won’t kill me, believe me. And for the record, it would be all right if you came to me and said, “We need to talk.” I don’t have to be the initiator every time. We’re all so afraid of breaking our stereotypes that we’ve stopped dancing to the same tune.
Man: So let me get this straight. It’s considerate if it’s in the flow and I don’t feel superior to you or magnanimous by doing it.
Woman: Yes–and once we get into the flow, we’re going to stop worrying about manipulating one another, relax in our own skin and find out exactly how much we have in common.
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Cracked 5 … January 12th, 2016
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Best Ways to Win a College Football National Championship
A. Carefully find legal steroids.
B. Pray before the game, cheat during the game, drink after the game.
C. Confiscate all the college finance for really cool, shiny helmets
D. Have plenty of colorful players–as long as they don’t date your daughters.
E. Be grumpy and surly and insist it’s because you are a relentless perfectionist.
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Untotaled: Stepping 46 (February 14th, 1969) The Pain in Pleasure… December 20, 2014
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(Transcript)
Her name was Belinda.
She was about two rungs down the ladder of popularity from me, promoted by the horrendous high school caste system.
She liked me a lot.
I liked her, but of course, I would never go against the feudal structure of High School U. S. A., to ask her out on a date. I would never survive the ridicule and humiliation.
But I got lonely around Valentine’s Day.
My dad was sick and dying. One of the guys in our music group quit because his girlfriend thought he was taking too much time with us, and I had no idea whatsoever on what geometry was all about.
So I quietly asked Belinda out on a date, hoping that because she was so devoted in my direction, there might be some necking involved. She was one of those farm girls, raised on Bible principles, but was willing to renegotiate some of the terms on a Saturday night.
I wanted to neck.
I had kissed girls, but had never sustained long sessions of smooching and my curiosity had overtaken me. So I selfishly decided to take advantage of poor Belinda.
She was thrilled and promised not to tell anybody about our date because I told her we “needed to see how it worked out.”
I took her to a drive-in movie, which in 1969 was code for “we’re gonna mess around.”
It took me nearly thirty minutes to work up the courage to put my arm around her, and then I was afraid to move it and therefore contracted some horrible cramps in my muscles, which continued through the entire evening.
It was easy to get her to start kissing. She had thin lips so the first couple of times I got mostly teeth. But after a minute or so we got the hang of it, and she started slipping her tongue in my mouth, which was relatively new to me.
Adapting the phrase, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” I concluded, “When in France do as the French do.”
We were about ten minutes into the session when I realized that one of us had really stale breath. It wasn’t really horrible–that dried smell of garlic baloney and over-chewed gum.
I persisted.
She really got into it–so much so that she unbuttoned her blouse, inviting me to see how “alive the hills really were.”
I thought about it. After all, I was a teenager. Morals were something to discuss at church and feverishly avoid in your everyday life.
But something stopped me.
Maybe it was the ache in my bicep. Or it could have been the halitosis.
But I backed out of the encounter, tongue first.
I took her home. She wondered what was wrong. She practically pleaded with me to see her again. And rat that I was, I went mousy and never spoke to her.
It was an odd night.
Rather than feeling fulfilled, I felt like I had used another human being, who would suffer some pangs from the experience.
It sucked.
I did learn, though, that there is some pain in pleasure.
The reason most people never pursue their goals is because along the way, there are some shards of glass strewn in the pathway which either need to be avoided or walked over.
If life was easy, dumb people would rule the world.
Well, maybe they do.
But life isn’t easy. With every pain comes some pleasure, and the pleasures that arrive our way do require that we survive a bit of discomfort.
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