You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to
Let’s make this clear at the outset – we all conjure a version of Oh, shut up in our minds at some point during conversations with members of the opposite sex. It’s not a question of the validity of a particular point; it’s more a result of not having Douglas Adam’s BabelFish handily translating the spoken words into relatable mind pictures. When the sexes interact verbally, we all assume that a shared language guarantees some level of understanding. That’s an incorrect assumption. Words fail, constantly, to express the thoughts behind them and doubly so when the gender difference bends their meaning.
I want an honest answer.
Women ask questions. For men, such questions arrive attached to a lit fuse. Does this dress make me look fat? Men learn early on to don the bomb-squad gear before answering. Such adaptive behavior makes them seem uncooperative and withholding, which calls their honesty into question. By contrast, other women can answer that same question in a forthright manner because they know they’re expected to offer an honest opinion that will be viewed as helpful, no matter its tone. Men are expected to reinforce a woman’s feeling of attractiveness, truth be damned.
I have three children – Cody, Alicia and my husband Ed.
Men make messes. Women clean up after them. This is a mutually enabling behavior that society is always reinforcing. The classic example is in the act of human reproduction. It’s not that men are intent on making babies. Generally speaking, they don’t give it much thought. However, the aftermath of coitus often leads to a series of escalating events that climax with a trip to the maternity ward. Susan Smith and that ilk aside, women love having children. They’re hard-wired for it. Men, on the other hand, have trouble girding up to the process of parenthood. It seems to them an awful lot of bother just so they can be relegated to the position of Mommy’s helper. Most buy into the role eventually, but I believe, at the outset, the common thread speaks to a desire to join the Peace Corp, or Al Qaeda. In this respect, men undergo the change much earlier than women do, evident in the sudden loss of hair, the increased belly fat and the gradually expanding wardrobe of wrinkled golf shirts. All of which says Dad.
All the men agreed he was a man’s man. They just didn’t know what that meant.
Men don’t ask questions. It’s a stubborn refusal to admit their failure to comprehend the world around them. Most want to believe that they are in control of some aspect of their lives. The concept of Deterministic reality is championed mostly by younger men, who cling to the idea that they played a positive role in affecting their personal timeline. It takes a while for the truth to sink in. Then, they start attending church services and wait to die. It’s sad to consider that most married men are numbed to death.
Women are from Missouri
Women demand proof. You can’t just say I love you to a woman and expect to be taken at your word. The love needs to be expressed in multiple aspects, like a Zen E-Harmony quiz. Granted, they have no reason to trust us. We threw away our credibility when we failed to throw away that six-year-old prophylactic and neglected to mention our other three current girlfriends. The Tiger Woods/Jesse James marriage fiascoes certainly do not promise men a beneficial reaction from the other side, with the exception of those men working as private investigators. The litmus test for reliability in a relationship is nearing the level of a witch dunking. If you drown, you’re okay.
You can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.
In spite of the ordeal inherent in bringing these opposite entities together, the biological element continues to carry the day. Makeup, short skirts, six-pack abs and deep tans work in tandem with the hormone army to keep the human factory working overtime. There is no activity as important, or as unfathomable, as the one leading us forward by generational steps. The equipment comes standard and maybe we don’t kick the tires enough before we ride off. Children are a gift, a burden and a curious result coming out of a clash between sensibilities. More curious is the pleasure parents take in knowing that these open books, these blank slates, will have no more success in closing the gender gap than we did. There is a bitter joy for both sides of the aisle in passing on the unlearnable lesson. That much we can agree on.
Abstract Invention by Charlie Accetta is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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