Those 21st century boyz
I almost took a picture of it. “Male dysfunction,” the shop window said. Male dysfunction ... what could that be, an aversion to beer? Disinterest in adjusting self? Distasteful reaction to one’s own sweat?*
Well, OK, I’m stretching. But it’s hard, these days. Say one thing allegedly typifying men, and it turns out you’ve only revealed a stereotype disproved by someone from the Queer Eye cast. And don’t get me started on this “Emo-Boy” crap. Even the name sounds lame!
Although I had a thought about this yesterday, as I passed a skinny, pale guy with iPod singing along in bravura tenor ... and later a long, blond, floppy-haired chap with all the requisite Emo threads (or so I gather). I don’t think it’s some change in the gene pool or the way that men are men these days. I think it’s mostly pragmatic adaption. How much muscle tone do you need, after all, to push papers, surf the web, and wear a tie? Which is what most white-collar jobs these days require. Muscle tone and sweat (at least for city chaps) are practically a luxury good!
But it’s not just adaption to the sweatless conditions of office work. It’s also a response to all that hollering that started in the 60s. When women started asking for something different. Wanting, as they surely did, to still help seed the next generation, men responded. After all, when enough women agree to make a change in their relationships, the market conditions shift. When a critical mass of women still insisted on rings for sex, a girl got less flak for holding out, and men more or less complied with the dating-and-mating conditions. But once enough women decided that putting out shouldn’t cost that much, the dating world changed. A girl with super-glued knees these days is basically locked out. No matter how much else she offers there’s just too many women without her problem, and too few men who’ll pass on ring-free sex.
But back to my point about Emo-Boys, I think they’ve gotten gypped with that name. Why act like they’re a strange species lately arrived? They’re just men responding to the challenges of the day. Learning where and when and how their wits and skills must be put to use. I mean, as long as I have a laptop a guy with tech expertise is just as good as a fireman or mechanic. He knows how to solve the problems that make me panic. Sure, the sweat stains don’t quite work the same, but when my baby’s ailing (which is always, not that the disc-drive’s broke), there’s nothing hotter than a guy who talks as if the problem’s curable, and the surgery skills are all in those magic fingers.
Which view has nothing to do with lately working in an IT department ... I’m sure that I’ll still feel this way when this gig ends (which it will when they hire someone permanently). Which end may actually be a good thing. You see, something weird happened yesterday.
Shortly before taking my late lunch, I check the web stats for this site. Since I’m just a freeloader, Bravenet only shows the 10 most recent hits, highlighted to indicate the hits from your own computer (or ISP). So yesterday when I check the stats, all 10 most recent hits are highlighted. Implying I’ve poked around my own blog a lot. Except that I didn’t “visit” maself at all yesterday! Musta been someone else from the office. On a Mac. Using Firefox 1.7 (which I should use this chance to hype as the Better Browser, by the way - and it truly is).
Mind you, I’ve been quite careful not to disclose the name of this here blog or how to find it. But it’s probably common knowledge that I write. And if IT dept. sleuthing has sometimes turned up shady email practices, probably my at-work blogging is just as easy to follow. If one has access to such information of course. Though I can’t imagine why someone would want to take a peek at that ...
Ah, life on the web. Now if only it could help me find a Jesus freak who knows how to heal my iBook ...
Don’t forget to send me your love-life related questions! Without new reader queries, I don’t have much to blog about these days. So if you enjoy coming here, help me forge ahead in the next direction for Sexless.
Well, OK, I’m stretching. But it’s hard, these days. Say one thing allegedly typifying men, and it turns out you’ve only revealed a stereotype disproved by someone from the Queer Eye cast. And don’t get me started on this “Emo-Boy” crap. Even the name sounds lame!
Although I had a thought about this yesterday, as I passed a skinny, pale guy with iPod singing along in bravura tenor ... and later a long, blond, floppy-haired chap with all the requisite Emo threads (or so I gather). I don’t think it’s some change in the gene pool or the way that men are men these days. I think it’s mostly pragmatic adaption. How much muscle tone do you need, after all, to push papers, surf the web, and wear a tie? Which is what most white-collar jobs these days require. Muscle tone and sweat (at least for city chaps) are practically a luxury good!
But it’s not just adaption to the sweatless conditions of office work. It’s also a response to all that hollering that started in the 60s. When women started asking for something different. Wanting, as they surely did, to still help seed the next generation, men responded. After all, when enough women agree to make a change in their relationships, the market conditions shift. When a critical mass of women still insisted on rings for sex, a girl got less flak for holding out, and men more or less complied with the dating-and-mating conditions. But once enough women decided that putting out shouldn’t cost that much, the dating world changed. A girl with super-glued knees these days is basically locked out. No matter how much else she offers there’s just too many women without her problem, and too few men who’ll pass on ring-free sex.
But back to my point about Emo-Boys, I think they’ve gotten gypped with that name. Why act like they’re a strange species lately arrived? They’re just men responding to the challenges of the day. Learning where and when and how their wits and skills must be put to use. I mean, as long as I have a laptop a guy with tech expertise is just as good as a fireman or mechanic. He knows how to solve the problems that make me panic. Sure, the sweat stains don’t quite work the same, but when my baby’s ailing (which is always, not that the disc-drive’s broke), there’s nothing hotter than a guy who talks as if the problem’s curable, and the surgery skills are all in those magic fingers.
Which view has nothing to do with lately working in an IT department ... I’m sure that I’ll still feel this way when this gig ends (which it will when they hire someone permanently). Which end may actually be a good thing. You see, something weird happened yesterday.
Shortly before taking my late lunch, I check the web stats for this site. Since I’m just a freeloader, Bravenet only shows the 10 most recent hits, highlighted to indicate the hits from your own computer (or ISP). So yesterday when I check the stats, all 10 most recent hits are highlighted. Implying I’ve poked around my own blog a lot. Except that I didn’t “visit” maself at all yesterday! Musta been someone else from the office. On a Mac. Using Firefox 1.7 (which I should use this chance to hype as the Better Browser, by the way - and it truly is).
Mind you, I’ve been quite careful not to disclose the name of this here blog or how to find it. But it’s probably common knowledge that I write. And if IT dept. sleuthing has sometimes turned up shady email practices, probably my at-work blogging is just as easy to follow. If one has access to such information of course. Though I can’t imagine why someone would want to take a peek at that ...
Ah, life on the web. Now if only it could help me find a Jesus freak who knows how to heal my iBook ...
Don’t forget to send me your love-life related questions! Without new reader queries, I don’t have much to blog about these days. So if you enjoy coming here, help me forge ahead in the next direction for Sexless.
| *You’ve probably already guessed what sort of business it was: a doctor’s office. But why couldn’t they say, “Male sexual dysfunction”? Is a man’s worth and purpose now reduced to his procreative gift? Seems like maybe I should dig back into that long-forgotten Sexless BOTtoM, The Rise of Viagra. And since I recently finished remaking a sweater ... |  |  |
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