| I've been married for over 30 years now, and that’s in spite of the fact that my wife and I are as different as night and day. That’s my only claim to fame these days--everything else has long since succumb to bleary eyesight, spongy gums, and having to consider my options before getting up to get the remote control. I’ve fought the good fight for many years now, but you know life is passing you by when your worst nightmare is about collapsing into your favorite chair after work only to find that Barney’s on television and the remote control is across the room. What shall I do? I suppose I could get up and get the damn thing . Oh, what the hell, Barney’s not all that bad-- and besides, it’s Friday night. If I just sit here for a minute maybe my daughter will come over and pass it to me. Yeah man, when you reach that point you know the fame in your game is fading. But so what, maybe I am getting a little weak in the joints, but the real measure of a man is being able to control your woman–and that takes brains, creative communication, and just a little finesse. You know your manhood is in tact when you can stand your ground, while at the same time making your woman think you’re compromising. That’s what these youngsters have to learn--life is about brains not brawn. In fact, my wife and I had an intimate little discussion on the subject just the other night . . . at the very top of our lungs. But I dealt with it--I finessed the situation by making her think I had compromised. You see, here lately, I’ve started to notice that my wife’s priorities are changing. When we were younger she use to cater to me hand and foot--not like a slave, she’s always been her own woman, but in a way that always showed me that I came first in her life. Like when we’d go to bar-b-ques or picnics, or to one of those functions where the men would get off into their little group to lie to one another, and the women would go off to do whatever they did at such times, I’d always be the first man to get a plate. It was just a little thing, and I paid little attention to it at the time, but now that I look back on it, it did make me feel important, and very much cherished by my woman. A man needs that kind of thing. I should have mentioned how much I appreciated it at the time–you see, that’s finesse–you give a little, and get a lot. But like I said, I paid little attention to it back then, because I was young and virile and cool, and it was a time in my life when women paid a lot more attention to me in general--sometimes they’d even blow, or wave at me as I crossed the street while they were waiting for a light. Of course, that isn’t to say they don’t blow at me now too, but only now it’s to get me out the way so they can see the young brother on the other side of me–the one with the functional joints. It’s little episodes like that, along with the fact that I’m beginning to feel Father Time tugging at my cuff (at least, I think it’s Father Time–it’s kinda hard bending over to see my cuff these days) are making me just a tad oversensitive–at least, that’s what my wife says. And maybe she’s right. Love is about knowing your strengths, and having enough confidence in yourself to compromise: Maybe I am reading too much into the fact that I have to wait for dinner until after she feeds the dog–“After all, he can’t feed himself like you can.” She’s probably also right that I’m being selfish not to want to dim the lights in my office to off-set the cost of providing our precious little 250 Lb mutt with a nightlight on the patio when there’s no Moon out, and a fan to keep him cool on hot Summer nights, “so he too can have a few comforts.” At first blush one might think I’m taking second place to the dog, but actually, my wife doesn’t realize that she’s being finessed–(you give a little, and get a lot). You see, while the mutt is out there sleeping under the stars, I get to live in the house. But in order to pull this off, you have be secure enough in your manhood to compromise. You see fellas, once you start becoming insecure in your manhood, it’s over. We’ve got to recognize that even though we’re getting a little older, we’re just as much in control of our households as we ever were-- it’s just that we have so much and our mutts have so little. So we’ve just got to learn to compromise, and finesse these women. We’ve got to make ‘em think they have some say about what goes on in the house. That way, we’ll always have the upper hand. And one other thing. We owe it to the young men of the future to maintain this dominance, so it is imperative that we teach these young girls their place early in life. We’ve got to beat these women to the punch. Again, it’s all about finesse, subtlety, and smarts. I’m going in here right now and begin schooling my little 5 year old granddaughter, Taylor: “Get out Poppy, I’m watching Rugrats! Nani! Poppy keeps talking and I can’t hear Rugrats!” “Ok, ok, baby. Shsssssssssss! Poppy’s going, right now.” “And close the door!” “Ok, baby, Poppy”s closing the door. See?” Ha! She thinks she got her way, but what she doesn’t know is, she’s just been finessed. Hey baby, you think Foofy will mind if I borrow the fan? Eric L. Wattree |
| ODE TO A FADING LADIES MAN |