The author is a late thirty something father and husband who's just trying to be a little better tomorrow than he was yesterday. Yes, he knows he thinks too much.
As you may have read, I’ve been watching Mad Men. I’ve one episode to go for Season One and must say that my opinion of Mr. Don Draper has run the gamut of the following (but not wholly limited to) adjectives:
Cool, Bad Ass, Tough, Romantic, Misogynistic, Caring, Disrespectful, Dashing, Sad, Ugly[contradictions ad infinitum].
I like using Mr. Draper as a benchmark; neither for or against, but as a way-point in the history of the evolution of Men [Men being the Male of Homo Sapiens, Sapiens and not used as the whole of Humanity]. Why? While Mr. Draper was the fictional child of a post industrial revolution society he still held many of the semi-prehistoric attributes of our forefathers and their more "primitive" grand fathers. Though immersed in a post suffragette world at the dawn of true feminism [read gender equality] men of that generation were only vaguely perturbed by their changing roles. And that was only fifty or so years ago. Confusion and it's ugly cousin rebellion came swiftly on its heels.
Saying the word man or men can be either a compliment or a curse. If used in a nurturing, calm and patient fashion it can be quite endearing and positive.
“He is so good with the kids, what a MAN!”
When used to describe an aggressive or selfish act it is most likely being used in the negative. “Oh my god… he drank all night with the guys, got in a fight and then came home and expected me to dot, dot, dot…”
“Why do boys insist on fighting and chasing girls all throughout their youth?”
“Why do men continue to start and fight wars and then come home and insist on making babies?”
The real question is why are we surprised when they act that way?
The evolutionary imperative:
This is a blog. It’s not a novel, a treatise or thesis. Ergo it is short and to the point. My answer to the above bolded question is simple.
Men are animals.
As the women in the audience nod their heads along, high five and assume that the rest of this post shall be smooth sailing with a succulent side of male bashing please take note that the definition of “Men” has now morphed to Men [As the whole of Humanity].
Yes ladies, you are animals too; boys and girls, men, women and all those in between count as Men. Granted we are quite adept at burning ever increasingly thermally efficient elements [wood to coal to uranium etc], we are still animals. The most gourmet cuisine is at any given time three steps away from raw dead animal flesh and dirty vegetation.
Our homes are still made of rock and tree (albeit with an ever increasing amount of petroleum derived plastic and post consumer recycled material). We still sleep on weaved vegetation or animal fur or feathers. We still keep tame wolves as guards and companions [note: keeping cats is a post cultural affectation]. We still write on cellulose (paper from trees) with evolved quills (pens) using pigment (ink… yes, your printer or fax counts). Women still paint their faces with pigments that mimic exaggerated sexual arousal and men seek to smell ever more like themselves after the “Hunt”. Men’s fashion swings back and forth from smooth and soft to hairy and rugged like a pendulum.
Instead of gathering around the campfire to hear heroic and cautionary tales of war, lust, greed and intrigue we gather around the television, books and the internet. Our stories are rife with death, violence and sexual tension as well as the pain and shame of others [Comedy]. Mostly they are power games.
Men still make sexist comments, boast of fights and generally posture in the safe bubble of masculinity. Women still complain about men in general, secretly remark about how one is more or less rough and tumble or caring than another and who would make the best "dad".
I’ll be a little brave. I’ll generalize.
Men desire aggression, the hunt, domination and mating. When those are accomplished or missed out on they meet to brag or whine about them (respectively).
Women desire safety and strong mates to give them safety and children. Historically most other emotional needs were met by other women.
Harsh? Perhaps. Simplistic? Yes. Sexist? Not in the least.
In the grand scope of things we have lived as two separate species for hundreds of thousands of years only meeting to carry out the various imperatives mentioned above. The only thing that has truly altered that paradigm is culture.
Culture is a perishable skill. Culture can be replaced by environmental need in a moment. That moment can extend into hundreds if not thousands of years unless that culture is preserved and the environment exists to support it. We have lost our culture before [read: The Dark Ages following the Fall of Rome] and we shall again [read: war, cometary strike, famine etc.]
Culture binds us as racial subgroups. It holds us together as communities; Red, Blue, conservative, liberal, independent, green and anarchist. Think of the loyalty associated with various cultures; Patriotism, Religion, even worse… color of skin. We will do horrific things for loyalty to culture as well as near miracles of accomplishment reverently referred to as “Humanity”.
But Humanity can as much save a flooding city, an earthquake ravaged country or war torn region as they can destroy a resource rich area, its people, homes, children and infrastructure.
We are animals. But we have a gift. We can rise above evolutionary imperative to build great fragile things. We’ll talk about that next along with its black sheep cousin… Faith.
It’s been three days since the children have seen television and it is beginning to take it’s toll on the family.
Monday –Day one was a big day for the family. The oldest was online with The Program after prompting from Dad. She and Dad got home earlier than Mom and youngest since they were at speech therapy. Together Dad and The Oldest made barbequed chicken breast, rice and Brussels’ Sprouts (not to mention did quite a bit of homework). Dinner went well, lots of laughs and a little time in the living rooms “Fort” (created Sunday night out of blankets and chairs). Additions to regular life; Music, laughs etc.
Tuesday -Day two showed increased symptoms of familial bonding. Upon reaching the house after work and school Dad and the girls played quietly for about an hour. The girls worked on sororal bonding while Dad took a little quiet time before doing minor housework. Mom arrived on time shortly after prepared for the planned bike ride. The family collectively decided to make the one mile journey to the Subway™ at the beach. Shortly after getting under way the family noticed the darkening sky and checked the weather via iPhone while en route. Intelligence was compromised, the internet lied! We finished our sandwiches to find that it was pouring rain (Reports that great fun was had in the ensuing downpour are highly under-exaggerated). Baths and bedtime were unremarkable.
Wednesday -Day three brought the youngest and Dad home earlier as usual following speech therapy. Dinner was begun in earnest while arts and crafts were undertaking following a enthusiastic “Giant Daddy T-Rex” attack on “Little Baby T-Rex” in the still standing Fort. Dinner consisted of Pasta with chicken, broccoli and a Dijon, Shallot, Caper Reduction ready to serve when the oldest and mom arrived home [disclosure: The kids had a Spaghetti Carbonara with carrots on the side though the oldest had chicken] . Following medicinal Hershey’s Dark Chocolate Kisses and a continuance of arts and crafts Mom and Dad divided operations between “Bedtime Routine” and “Clean-Up”.
Casualty Report: The fort was dismantled for laundering.
Executive Summary:
It is the opinion of this operative that “Forced Interaction Plan” is succeeding. The basic inability for resident children to zone out on Scooby Doo coupled with the Father’s lack of “Internet Black Hole” has led to increased laughter, positive endorphins and interpersonal relationship building. A minor increase in domestic organization as well as Maternal Stress Relief should also be noted as having as yet unrealized potential on overall Mission Impact. The Wife should be commended for her plan.
In closing, The Wife has shown great foresight to temporarily ban the great distractor from the household during child rearing hours. Though the immediate implementation of digital media following bedtime continues to entertain it also shows a similar breakdown in communication. The Author supports an extension on the cessation of so-called "Television" during adult orientated hours to further extend the team building exercises into the evening even extending into graduated "bedtime".
Life Happens. Yes, it does. It's the kind of resigned thing I used to say when others realized that I was not living up to what they wanted of me in their lives. It was a simple deflection to take the heat off of me and place it on... Life. Translated it was an easy fatalistic B.S. cop out. Tonight as I sat on the couch thinking of what that phrase meant I did what we all do these days and Googled it. I found little in the way of origin [I'm taking this in a free wheel manner, if it is not obvious, it's not relevant, and if it is not profound then it better be funny.] What I did find was this quote;
Do me a little favor. Read that again for me and think on it a spell. I did. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn't just think about it, I chewed on it. I worried it around like a bit of spinach in my teeth. What it made me realize was what I thought of as life was a pipe dream of an ideal of service rendered unto me. Life was the ride that I was on and all those who interacted with me were mere players and supporting cast in my own pleasure / pain bacchanal.
A Dionysian self centered joy ride. Life is not that.
I'm going to be brave for a moment and generalize. Life is that. Life is the ride that each and everyone of us ride, by ourselves into the dark without only the barest touch of another to guide us [some might mention faith, but that is another post...]. The real question is what do you choose to do on your ride? Do you choose to close your eyes and let go of the wheel? Or do you you choose to look around the car and notice the mood, needs, health and welfare of those in the car with you (especially when you are the one driving)?
I decided that Mr. Lennon had hit the nail on the head. I'm going to be brave again and explain in my own words what I think he meant.
"Life becomes the mistakes you'll regret when you indulge yourself and pay no attention to those you claim to love." ~ Me
I realized a while ago that I was running away from my life. Let's break that down and be a little more honest. I was running away from my wife. I was running away from my children. Hell, I was even running away from my dog. What's worse is that I was running away from them and then (finding myself far away and alone) turning around and screaming "Why isn't anyone here for ME!!!?" The silence was deafening.
I've decided to remove myself from the race I've been running against myself. I refuse to run away from those I love. I refuse to require those who love me to follow me down a rabbit hole of self indulgence to the co-dependent morass that I've whined for.
I'm running Toward my life. Toward my wife, my children, and yes, even my dog. And I am doing it with my arms wide open. I may have to circle around a couple of times, but I'll do it. More importantly I'm going to do it without requiring anyone else to change their stride. We will stumble. We will fall. But we will run together.
I'm going to make mistakes tomorrow, and the next day. I have to believe though that at least anticipating those mistakes and being able to count them up afterword is a step in the right direction...
I recently started watching Madmen. I think that what attracts me to the show is the idea that it gives a snapshot of the executive life that existed in the fifties when my father was starting his climb up the corporate ladder. Now, if you are a fan of Madmen then you know that this does not exactly paint a very pretty picture of men in the fifties. Did Ward Cleaver exist? Perhaps. He did not exist in my house, but I digress. I've forgiven my parents for their transgressions a long time ago.
What ties in Madmen and my parents generation [read: style of child rearing] is the irony that while I find the television show entertaining and interesting I abhor the manner in which men are represented as aloof "Men" who are pulling one over on the "weaker" sex. Now I don't buy for a moment that all men were philandering manipulators to the Nth degree but I also know that all men share those basal instincts.
I've never been and never will be a philanderer. A manipulator? Guilty as charged. I am however learning how important control (or in some cases the illusion of control) is to most of us. I've realized that this illusion of control is taking a toll on my oldest daughter [6 yrs] in the silliest of places; Manners...
My daughter is amazing. She is incredibly intelligent. She is the most thoughtful and (more often than not) selfless person I have ever met. Her heart is so full of love that it is constantly overflowing. Her hugs could break ribs and her kisses scream "I love you" and never anything less.
But she is... messy. She is a junior foodie. I say junior because she does not eat beef in any form other that "Hot Dog". She consumes no fish unless it is in "Stick" form (except strangely, shark or smelt roe on sushi). She eats no chicken unless it is a "finger", "nugget" or she helped make it. She eats carrots but little else in the vegetable realm. Rice? Nope. Potatoes? The occasional french fry. Really it comes down to bread, cheese, Caesar Salad and desert (snacks don't count).
I've been trying (does saying you're trying and thinking about trying equate to Trying?) to go easier on her. I ride her to no end. I find one little thing that leads to another and then I have to mention the other thing and explain the one I didn't mention. Before you know it my beautiful, amazing, capable and strong daughter begins to wilt before me. The look in her eyes is that of a person under attack. A person shell shocked, ready to surrender. Water boarding has nothing on me.
Today at breakfast I spent a while making bacon and pancakes. It was fun, it was for them and I loved it. My oldest loves food, she celebrates it and that is OK. I looked over from the after glow of a well cooked meal and the enjoyment that ensues when you get to share it with those you love and I saw my oldest.... sticky fingers, dirty place setting, smeared lips and mouth and not a bit of recognition of those facts. So what did I do? I attacked. Calm voice (like that matters) I let her know just how far short of the mark she falls. It's horrible to think how that felt to her.
See... I'm such a smart and confident MAN I'm in a power struggle with a six year old girl. I've drawn a line in the sand and am standing firm. I will not surrender. She WILL respect me. She WILL listen to me. She WILL do as she is TOLD!!!
Pathetic. Dysfunctional. Idiotic. Abusive. Any of those words cross your mind? I agree. I am all those words.
I don't want to be my dad. I don't want to be Don Draper. I never did [OK, not true... there was a great period of my early manhood that I would have given my right leg to be Don Draper]. I want to be a man who nurtures his daughter, gives her confidence. Teaches her without shaming her; shows her the way without blaming her.
I'm going to make mistakes tomorrow, and the next day. I have to believe though that at least anticipating those mistakes and being able to count them up afterword is a step in the right direction... One might even say good... Manners.
Why? Why add another blog to the roll call of unread bits, bites and blather that inhabit cyberspace? Simple self indulgence, ego and a vague sense of adventure really.
The Wife and I started watching Julie and Julia tonight and paused it within bare minutes of starting to have a bit of a chat. We'd had some friction throughout the day and perhaps week [read: years] over some vague points of contention and felt the urge to pause in our entertainment to discuss it...
Now many might read this as code for "An argument"... and they would be right. To be more accurate though it was a discussion. See, We used to (and will again I am sure) argue, but I have been making a great effort of late to be less passive aggressive and to bring my more emotive points to bare in a less contentious fashion [translation: I'm trying to be less of an asshole].
Guess what? It worked! We were able to get a lot of feelings out on the table; feelings that in the past would have led to huffing, puffing and really just loss of communication rather than consensus. Now, understand that I am not really taking full credit for a meaningful conversation that actually led to resuming and enjoying a movie, drinks and snacks, but in this instance I was able to notice it and bring it to light.
I realized that we both wanted the same thing... We have both often expressed how we needed to be more of a... Team
Yes, a team. That was nothing new. We both new that the other was not supporting our agenda, wants, needs etc. to the point that we needed for true blue fulfillment. We were on the cusp of a complete breakdown in communication that would have led to yet another ruined evening based on selfish and self centered whining (yes, insensitive, but wait, there is more...).
We were both waiting for the other to get on board for the big win and join OUR team, and by our team we mean MY team...
See, the Team is us. Not me and your failings, not you and my shortcomings, but WE.
It dawned on me all in one fell swoop that what we both wanted, both NEEDED was to understand that all we both really wanted was the other to pay attention what was important to the other. Simple? Yes... but often seeing the forest for the trees is harder than it seems.
I need to pay better attention to Her and her needs, what is important to her. I need to pay less attention to my wants, and where they are left behind. Only then will I myself become part of...
