Thursday, November 26, 2009
This is always the busiest time of the year at work for me, so I am certainly thankful to have a few days off. Nothing like crawling to the finish line.
Where has this month gone? Christmas is only a month away and two weeks from today I will be heading to Las Vegas to meet up with many of my fellow poker bloggers. I have only met a handful in person, so this should be quite interesting.
Only a sister-in-law and a niece are joining my family for dinner, so there should be plenty of leftover turkey. I got the biggest one I could find -- about 22 1/2 pounds. Turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, maybe turkey chilli ...
I hope everyone celebrating the real Thanksgiving has a nice restful, food-filled, football-watching, pleasant day. The best of health and happiness to you and yours!
Saturday, November 07, 2009
The Wussification of the American MaleThis afternoon I actually took a break away from poker to run errands. After all, it was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and I was not registered in the Online Forum Challenge donkathon scheduled for today.
One of my stops was at the local Kohl's store. While there I decided to try on a few pairs of pants. However, I was prepared to see the usual scene near the men's dressing room that disgusts me to no end.
I guess I was fortunate when growing up in that I attended a Catholic school and wore a uniform every day -- navy blue pants and a light blue shirt. My mom ordered our clothes from Sears, therefore we never spent much time shopping for clothes. They always seemed to come folded in nice plastic bags. Anyway, I digress.
Waiting right outside the men's dressing room was a middle-aged woman. And I mean right outside the dressing room. Wanting soooo badly to go in there and help her poor, inept husband try on a pair of pants or a shirt. Really.
I have seen this same scene repeated so many times. Sometimes the women get really ballsy and go right into the dressing room with the guy. Where a bunch of guys are in the stalls taking off their clothes.
Now, the first thing that pisses me off is that that these women somehow think that it is okay to invade the men's dressing room. Were I to go into the women's dressing room to "assist" my wife -- hoo hah -- how long would it take for store security to come rushing in?
But what really sets me off, however, is how these guys are such wusses that they have to have their wifey or their mommy help them try on clothes. I mean -- geez -- do the women hold their guy's schlongs when they have to take a piss?
I see family dynamics in action every day in my job. There is a totally different dynamic with fathers and daughters, though. The fathers are usually there as the "protector" for their daughter and largely stay silent and in the background. They are making sure that their daughter doesn't get dicked around. But they let their daughters stand on their own two feet. Well done, mates.
Mothers and sons though -- awk! The mothers always want to do the talking for their poor sons. After all, it's a mother's job to take care of her little boy, right? The sons? They sit back like the wusses they are and let their moms handle business. Sometimes the mothers call for their sons because the sons are "just too busy."
One time I had a mother call me on the phone to try to arrange her son's transfer from an out-of-state university to my school. She, of course, knew nothing about what her son was taking, but she was trying to arrange things for him. After getting several vague responses from me due to FERPA regulations, she finally asked me, "Shouldn't my son be doing this?" I somehow contained myself from saying what I really wanted to say and instead answered "Ma'am, if your son has been attending a university halfway across the country, he certainly is capable of handling his own transfer of schools."
When I was a young guy the absolute last thing that I would have wanted was to have my mom doing things for me that I should have been doing myself. In today's world, however, it seems almost standard that guys are wusses and mommies or wifies are the great enablers.
Enough of this mini-rant. It's time for me to grab a brew, tug at my crotch, and play some poker. After all, I am a man ...