I always liked women better than men and as
a consequence have paid closer attention to them. After years of intense scrutiny,
I am still baffled at the species. I am equally baffled at the way women interpret
what men say and what we do. Woman and men are in totally different orbits. We rarely understand where the other sex is coming from. Women seem to view men through a convex looking glass. I am
not sure why women believe the opposite of what we say or what they see because it is difficult to get a straight answer from
women regarding this matter. Most of the time woman are sure they are right about
their perception of men and do not accept men’s own explanations about themselves.
Men and women’s perceptive differences are
deeply rooted. It started with Adam and Eve.
God laid down the Law. Eve did the opposite of what she was told. Adam, who wasn’t paying full attention in the first place, went along with Eve. Then the bill arrived.
The Feminine Perspective
During high school, I dated a woman whose best
friend eventually became my good friend. Being “pals” at 16 with
an exceptional young woman afforded me a very unique perspective. I found myself
immersed in a foreign culture. I was around a cadre of young women ages 16 to
22. They were all very smart. They
were the girls that always knew the answer, in the classroom. They all got full
academic scholarships to college.
Away from school, in a relaxed social setting
the cadre provided startling insights into what women like and don’t like about men and each other. At times I found myself in information overload; challenged emotionally and intellectually.
My friend Kathy, the alpha one female of the group,
is one of the most brilliant people on the planet. We spent a lot of time together,
during the last two years of high school and the summer before we went away to college. There were always young women at her
house, when I arrived or she would take me all over town to meet them. I was
typically the only male in the room. Having been raised by social Nazis, I had
been trained to be quiet the first time I met ANYONE. I also had enough sense
to stifle my brazen personality, in front of groups of strong black women. As
a consequence, the women thought I was “shy” or “timid”.
Because I was hangin with Kathy, many of her friends assumed I was a total wus.
The cadre of young women Kathy introduced me to,
were intellectual, political and assertive. The cadre could comfortably discuss
the decline of western society or Marx or the latest social trend. A few of them
also took great pride in discussing their emerging sex lives in agonizing detail. They seemed eager to get a reaction from
me. The more stoic I appeared, the more graphic they became. I would be sitting there gnashing my teeth and making sure I did not to stand up.
The first time Kathy took me to meet the “bad
girl” of the cadre, I wanted to jump up and have sex with everyone in the room.
May was stunning in intellect and hot in ass. She was the only baby momma
of the group. At our first meeting, May sat in her living room, while her grandmother was in the kitchen cooking, and calmly
described having anal sex with some guy she had met. May looked me in the face
the entire time she told the story. No
one had ever talked to me that way before. She was working me over and knew it! I had never given much thought to doing it that way before! I was just preoccupied with doing it. May teased me in a similar
manner for the next 7-8 years. She used sex as a weapon of mass male destruction.
Another of Kathy’s stand out friends was
Gailen. She was about twenty; the veteran of the crew. “Free Spirit” would be an apt description for her. She
was thin, dark and handsome. Gailen was tough and streety. The other girls were not. She was my personal favorite
of all of Kathy’s friends. She always wore mini skirts, no stockings and no bra.
When she spoke startling things flew out of her mouth.
One time, when Gailen walked into the house, the
cadre was assembled in the living room watching television. She looked around
the room and inquired: “What’s up?” There was a pregnant pause. We all looked at each other. No one spoke. Gailen looked at me and
declared: “Y’all musta been talkin bout Kathy’s favorite subject: dicks!” Kathy turned bright burgundy. My mouth fell open. I looked at Kathy. She could not look at me. Gailen had revealed a girl on girl topic that I had never been privy to.
When we got together we talked about school, politics, music the arts, not dicks and pussies.
From that day forward, I developed a more sentient
view of my friend Kathy. I had avoided viewing her in a sexual framework before. I would not allow myself. Over time,
I had placed her on that pedestal just below my momma. It never occurred to me
that she did the nasty let alone thought about it. We were downtime friends. When we weren’t with our current love interest, we were together. Soon after we met, her best friend Daria, that I had dated, returned to the safety of her old boyfriend. Kathy and I began spending a lot of our downtime together. Daria would hang sometimes and sometime she wouldn’t.
Kathy and I enjoyed each other’s company, with or without Daria. We
had a wholesome interest in one another. We shared many intellectual interests. We were at her house or my house or someone’s apartment, the theatre, the movie,
riding around Windsor
or hanging out at The Ibo Cultural
Center on Saturday. I never
allowed myself to objectify her, except for that one time when I got her out of bed and she came to the door with her robe
on and inadvertently exposed Miss Bushington to me! The fact that she could be
that casual around me was ultimately a testament to our friendship.
It never occurred to me to think about the mechanics
of Kathy’s likes or dislikes, when it came to men. I knew that she liked
poet warriors; brothers that worked out at dojos, wrote poetry and were inaccessible.
I was more of a working class renaissance man with a car and disposable income.
I have had a sexual curiosity for all but 5 or
6 of the females I have known on the entire planet. Those 5 or 6 females had
special status with me. They were sacred and asexual. I met Kathy, in the classroom, at the beginning of my burgeoning intellectual phase. The first time she spoke in my presence, something more significant that what the teacher had to say came
out of her mouth. She had me from day one.
She was an Egyptian Goddess pontificating in blue jeans. Kathy’s
friend Daria, with her big titties, her long mini skirted bare legs, her salt and pepper afro and her attitude was equally
captivating but destined not to sustain my attention.
To this day, Kathy and I vibe on a regular basis. I love her dearly. She introduced me to the world of women and academia. She challenged me to think outside of the box. She forced
me to be introspective. She challenged me to think not react in stereotypical
ways. She made me take journalism classes.
She literally drug me to the S.A.T and the National Merit Scholastic Aptitude Test.
She is the reason I can sit here and articulately tell all my personal business.
She saved me from my chauvinism and nudged me toward a more androgynous mindset; exposing me to universes I would have
never thought to explore.
The World of Women
the hoards of gen x girly men, men of my generation had very limited understanding of the “world of women”. If you had sisters, you could not model your interactions with other women based on
your familial experience. If you had no female siblings, you were clueless. The sperm donor that lived in the house with you was constantly advocating his testosterone
driven point of view. In retrospect, with the help of the Playboy Forum, men
came to understand that that point of view was hopelessly flawed. As a race,
man have never understood the complex being known as woman. Woe man.
in the day, male baby boomers still had something that mimicked rights of passage. Most
men raised in the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s or 70’s were force fed the notion that you had to make money, support
your habits and “take care” of women.
care” of women born and raised in America has always been emblematic because men are rarely capable of “taking
care of business” in the area of woman wrangling! We never read the manual
or ask women for directions before we start the engine and pull away from the curb.
was fortunate to be raised by a “liberated” centered woman from the rural south, so I never harbored the delusion
that women are “manageable”. My father knowingly pushed my mother
into a more assertive role then struggled to keep up with his Frankenwoman, til the day he died. My mother skillfully stuck to her agenda, which helped me and my siblings stay grounded. My donor was a great father while being a terrible husband. He
had good intentions during his lucid moments and had the good sense to go to work. When his dick and ego overpowered his thought
processes, our secure nuclear family went south.
want to deny the laws of physics. When we knowingly fuck up, we never factor
in that equal and opposite reaction, until it kicks us in the nuts.
my parent’s struggle, then hooking up with a cadre of alpha females inexorably changed my culturally driven biases toward
females and my male centered way of thinking. I started paying attention at an
age that still allowed me to objectively process what I was taking in. The cadre, the hoards University debutants and female co-workers brought me the rest of the way. I was in my thirties before I got the lessons and could put them to good use.
Roots of Enlightenment
was the first of my teen wolf pack to break away and start dating. It caused
me to be ostracized by my mens which further catapulted me into feminine pulchritude.
was the first woman to turn my head. She was aloof and seductive. Most 16-year-olds are naively sexual. Not she. She wore her clothing, the style of her hair and her perfume with deadly intent. When she walked in the any room, the air changed. She stole
me away from my first girlfriend Katie.
was seduced and summarily disposed of as quickly and callously as I had done my sweet young Katie. I later consoled myself with the nurturance of Kathy and her entourage.
I evolved emotionally and intellectually as Kathy et al assaulted my wolf pack tendencies. The cadre invited me in a world that most heterosexual male baby boomers would never be exposed to. That exposure forced altered my point of view.
The symbiosis empowered me, for a short while, anyway.
of what I learned from the cadre prepared me for my college years. Social intercourse,
at the University, was monumental and disproportional to anything anybody encountered at home.
I was usually too distracted to be clever. I was chronically overwhelmed
socially, emotionally and chemically!
years into my professional career, the lessons that my mother, the alpha cadre and my female co-workers taught me began to
gel. Women process things very differently than men. Women are more androgynous
and adapted than men. The short of it is: women are intuitive; men are too pragmatic. Women nudge. Men push.
tell you all you need to know, if you are paying attention, over the course of 2 or 3 conversations. They will tell you what’s going on; what you should be attending to; what you should ignore and most
importantly; when they are ready!
blurt things out in a barrage of verbosity. Men speak in parable. Men expound euphemistically. Men make
liberal use of adjectives like “shit”, “bullshit”, “fuck” and (my personal favorite) “muthafucka”
to describe a range of emotions and concepts. It takes women days, weeks,
sometime decades to decipher what men are trying to tell them. It takes so long
because women think more than men. Men say right up front, right at the beginning,
what is on our minds, then we never bring it up again. Or, in reflection, men
hype up events greater than their actual circumstance. Women buy into men’s
hype, then due to overthink women model the hyped version of men’s behavior.
don’t trust men. Overthink sometime causes women to believe the opposite
of what men say to them! The outcome: women reprocess our hype and replicate
men’s hyped up versions of an action or ritual with a vengeance. The things
men say we do are replicated by women more efficiently than men could ever master, in a bizarre role reversal. Men respond and never figure out why we get it all wrong!
women don’t trust men, they won’t tell me what’s on their mind, in a straight fort manner. Men have to resort to getting women excited or angry to get them to tell you what’s on their mind
in a succinct manner. Men later come to regret hearing the truth this way.
Truth About Men
to popular belief, men can be very touchy feely and sensitive. We just don’t
always know when to be or when not to be. Over our life time, we may never learn
subtlety in word or touch. Men have lost the instincts for most things primal. Some men think they have to boink other men or assume feminine roles to be in touch
with our feelings.
the savannah, we used our ears, eyes, nose and instincts obtain food and to avoid
being eaten. We paid attention. Nowadays, we miss what’s going on 5 feet
away from us! We seem to be perpetually “looking the other way” when
it comes to women. We typically have to have a dress thrown over our heads before
we pay attention. Unfortunately, a very small portion of the female population
is willing to flip up that skirt, to get a man’s attention.
women are paying attention they expect men to be attending also. Modern
man has too many distractions to attend to subtle cues. Evolution and man’s
quest for commerce have caused men to loose primordial skills. The half
naked woman, who dresses to be comfortable, will get a man’s immediate attention and be summarily harassed. The fully clothed sexually repressed buttoned up to the chin biting her lip and crying for affection female,
sitting at the bar shaking her crossed leg and chain smoking will not register in the male psyche. Nobody gets served in either scenario.
Eden to Bizzaroville
time when men had to get up at the crack of dawn, hunt, eat, fuck and then go to sleep at sunset, is long gone. Modern man can’t run up behind a female at the water cooler, do it to her doggy style, then run off
and beat his chest anymore. So called civilization and social compacts have created
severe penalties for that kind of conduct. The more societal we have become, the more likely you are to get your ass kicked,
be chemically neutered or killed for violating sacrosanct social contracts.
mechanization and economies of scale have caused girly men to become le nouveau alpha male.
The social order has become convoluted. Chest thumping has been replaced
with ciphering. Excessive testosterone is only good if you aspire to be a professional
athlete or are undergoing a female to male sex change. Because of the social
engineering that created the “nerd affect”; there is a conspicuous absence of true alpha maleness, in the western
world. The effete pseudo intellectual is today’s male role model. The media portrays the ideal man as a metro sexual or openly gay man with an MBA. Gender roles have reversed or have become so skewed that culturally, western men no
longer understand rites of passage from childhood to manhood. The new message
is: it’s fashionable to be a nerd. The media conspires to promote the cult
of the milquetoast personality.
Against The Current
leader of my cult, made his transition, shortly after my 18th birthday. Thereafter,
I sought out any role model I could find. My man man tendencies had a good foundation
but were not set in stone. My adoration of my mother, and the cadre would not
allow me to adopt certain dysfunctional characteristics of my XY legacy. The confluence of genetic, cultural and social forces
created a new me. By the time I
had matriculated and worked in female dominated offices for a few years, I morphed into a Neanderthal with lesbian tendencies.
am a caveman with good writing skills and an appreciation for the things I know women really like. I have evolved. My 21st century social repertoire
consist of; wining, dining and a little clubbing of a willing female over the head, then having her for dessert.
learned to listen to what women say they want and have tried to glean what they really want!
Fortunately or unfortunately, only my ex-wife, a few women I’ve dated and the readers of my blog know this about
me. To the rest of the world, I am a thuggish mesomorph, sleep walking up and
down the hallway, oblivious to all the candy in the cubicles.
wrote this piece after one of my naive female co-workers observed, that I appeared to her to be “tired and sleepy”. I hear this at least twice a week from delectable minions, at the work place. I would be tarred and feathered, then fired, if they could read my mind. At work, I am like Yogi at the park. I would love to gobble
up the contents of their picanic baskets but the ranger of professional comportment, is always lurking about.
behooves me to appear disinterested, solely for self preservation.
relaxed social settings, women of my casual acquaintance accuse me of being “up to something”. What a dichotomy. In my mind I am always the same person. In
the work environment, I am viewed as disinterested by my female co-workers. Translation:
“he’s safe”. Away from work, when we all have drinks in hand,
women-whose primitive instincts are tuned into the right channel-are telling me in woman speak that they want to get clubbed
the Neanderthal way!
what women are REALLY saying offers me no advantage what so ever. Typically the
women that think I’m “tired and sleepy” are the ones that would likely run me out of the room in a naked
dyadic encounter, but what’s life without challenges? The women that accuse me of being “up to something” are “on the money” but have
yet to figure out the “price of admission” and are subsequently “out the box”.
am a student of anthropology and sociology, so I’m in constant search for that woman capable of making me utter that
primal scream. I majored in psychology, so, I also understand that that woman
avails herself once every 1000 encounters! She is hard to find and even harder
to get naked. When I am fortunate enough to run up on one of these women, at
a glance, they rarely understand that I am the man for the job. I fall victim
of the dichotomy I mentioned earlier. I don’t fit the image they have in
their heads about “that guy”. The only problem is: “that guy”
already has a boyfriend.
women and men are doomed to misunderstanding each other. We will waltz by Elysium
in our search for something we don’t need or can’t afford. Instead of listening intently, we attend to our agendas. We only listen when we are sufficiently detached or emotionally challenged. It causes us to be disconnected and leads to disruptive relationships.
and women need to pay closer attention to one another. Attending can be very
disarming and equally rewarding. It takes people a long time to learn how to
attend. It takes others even longer to comprehend the attention. As one becomes more attentive, the world about you takes on a different appearance. It empowers you in ways that I cannot begin to describe.
friend, my confidant introduced me to her world, in our youth. After I was comfortable
in her space, I invaded others and expanded my own. My life transformed, because
I learned how to be more observant and open to other’s ideas. We can all
do it. You just have to practice, practice, practice. That is the challenge for our species in the 21st century.