“Look at that male mosquito,” says my female co-worker at Amalgamated Monster. “It’s big, flimsy, clumsy, too stupid to get out of its own way.”
“Yeah,” I reply, because I can’t think of anything else to say.
She looks at me and then at the mosquito. “Typical male,” she says.
It didn’t used to be this way!
I remember my father, Horatio Hauser, and my grandfather, Hornblower Hauser. These were what used to be called, men’s men. They were like lions, whose single growl brought the whole family to attention, and whose roar made the mountains tremble (warning – possible hyperbole in the last sentence.)
Now a man’s man is just another term for gay.
TV programs were full of men’s men. There was Matt Dillon, Daniel Boone, Joe Friday, Paladin. Bonanza had four of them in one program. Manliness was so prevalent that even sit-coms frequently dispensed with mothers in shows like Bachelor Father, Family Affair, My Three Sons, The Courtship of Eddie’s Father… oh, and Bonanza again.
If we had a show named Father Knows Best today, it would be meant ironically.
We can look at the easy answers – the woman’s movement, easy living, Dr. Spock (maybe even Mr. Spock,) but I think it’s not a social change – it’s an evolutionary one…
Our human race is transitioning from mammal, to insect. Guys are typically referred to as slugs, while women are busy bees.
You know what happens to male bees after mating don’t you? Or even worse, what happens to preying mantises.
Pray we don’t evolve into them.
You don’t believe me? Twenty years ago, people didn't buzz Now try sitting through a movie or even a wedding without hearing somebody’s cell phone vibrate.
It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for what was happening in the insect world. More and more species are evolving to reproduce without male involvement. There’s even an insect in Brazil where the females are growing their own euphemisms.
What’s the answer mankind (as opposed to humankind?) Tim Taylor tried expressing his manliness with grunting, growling and scratching himself. He just became an object of ridicule.
Last weekend I wandered up to the wilderness and tried to join a wolf pack. At first they welcomed me, but they got tired of waiting for me to tie my shoes when we went on the prowl, and when I snuck out a Pop Tart during the evening raw rabbit feed, they all looked at me as if to say – really?
So instead I sit at my work station at Amalgamated Monster, watching the stupid male mosquito bounce himself against the flickering florescent light, hearing the misandrist comments of my female co-workers.
And I wonder how long it will take for the great evolutionary bug zapper of history to end our existence.
Until then – I’m through dating. No sense rushing things along.
Four videos in this post! Four! Talk about extra value!