I was driving to a football game recently with the lamented former blogger Chuckdaddy, and he confessed to me that he can't get out of a grocery store without calling Mrs. Chuckdaddy "at least once" to check up on the details of what he is supposed to be shopping for. I think I surprised both of us with my reaction. "When I see guys at the grocery store calling home on their cell phones," I told him, "I think to myself, 'that's not a
real man."
Now that probably sounds like pretty big talk from a boy quilter with a certificate in Women's Studies who wrote songs for his cat. Yet having had something like that fall out of my mouth has made me think about what you might, if you wanted, call the "masculine virtues." You know, things like bravery, like owning up ("manning up"?) to responsibilities. Like decisiveness – that’s the one that seems comically violated by calls home from the supermarket – or acceptance of hardship, respect for the physical world, and protection, when possible, of those weaker than oneself.
Eventually, of course, I realized that these "masculine virtues" are really just the "grown-up virtues." They are qualities to be admired in anyone, regardless of the configuration of their reproductive equipment. Presumably they've been appropriated by us dudes as "masculine" the same way we scored all of the inexpensive, comfortable clothing. So yes, I realize that I am being more than usual of a buffoon here. But I didn't let that epiphany get in the way of continuing with this post.
Unmanly Things
So, whether it makes any real sense to deem something "unmanly," it's certainly a reaction I have from time to time. I feel it most, strangely, for men who bitch about their wives. That sounds preachy, I know, like I'm trying to line up adult masculinity with a personal code of values ("voting Republican isn't manly!" "Environmentalism is a MAN's issue!" "Real men read the L&TM5K"). But when I worked a few years ago with two men who spent much of the day bagging on their respective wives, my gut reaction was that they were pathetic little boys. Which is not to say it's a crime to be unhappy in a marriage, but come on -- you owe enough loyalty to your immediate family not to talk them down in public, don't you? Get with the show, lads.
It's hard not to bring one's own aesthetic to bear on the question, too.
Prima facie, I have to admit a ingrained tendency to think that crying at a Hollywood romance is unmanly behavior, unbecoming of an adult male. The same with exhibiting an excessive interest in Olympic figure skating, wearing pink pants, or allowing one's partner to decorate the common areas of the home with hearts and frills without making some kind of equal-but-opposite imprint of one's own personality. But this is all just silly cultural programming. Or is it?
Complaint is very often an unmanly behavior in my book. It certainly is at odds with the "masculine virtues", after all, suggesting an unwillingness to endure hardship and often a reluctance to take on responsibilities. Often, though, I am rather at odds with the culture on this point. For many, nothing could be more macho than griping about referees, or taxes, or the other drivers on the road. But what I hear in those complaints -- when it's not me doing the complaining, anyway -- is poor sportsmanship (sportspersonship?), unwillingness to support the larger community that makes the accumulation of wealth possible in the first place, and an inability to remember one's own many errors of judgment behind the wheel. And I always want to say, "dude, don't be such a goddam WUSS!!!" But I don't, because I might get beat up.
Unmanliest of all? Complaining about service. When a man kvetches about how he was treated by some minimum wage clerk, waitress, cashier, barista, ticket taker, or housekeeper, I always feel kind of humiliated for him. Because, you know, who the hell
cares if the waiter gave you the respect you felt due? How fragile is you, anyway? Learn to endure, my brother!
And one last one: In
Dominion, Matthew Scully suggests that it is unmanly to privilege your petty appetites over your morality. To think that the way foie gras is made is horrifying, for instance, but to keep eating it because you find it delicious: to Scully, that's unmanly. The idea is just tossed out as an aside in the book, but I've found it a bit haunting when I make the dozen everyday choices between my ethics and my convenience. 'Cause I think he's got a point.
That's all for today, gentlemen.
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Wednesday Weigh-InWell, according to the old scale, 206, right on plan. But according to the fancy new "accurate to within .2 pounds" scale that I actually asked for and got for Christmas, 208.0. Careful what you ask for.
2. 
The squat blank ancient magnificence of the Steel. 
The endless blue line of the Ross Island.
