About Men

Men are pretty much alike regardless of race, color or means. As a tree is bent so can manners be modified by environment. Every one of us is self-made, but only the rich or the famous admit it. The majority of us have characters that lend themselves to legend, but only a few have the knack of drawing attention to theirs. To begin with, the trouble with men is their trouble with women. Eve started it all by making trouble for Adam, trouble that continues to stick in every man’s craw. For the first twenty years a man’s Mother asks where he’s going; for the next fifty his wife wants to know the same thing; and when he dies even the mourners wonder.

Up to the age of five, man is God’s most helpless mammal; abandoned, he will die. A male won’t fight his own kind except for food or for a female-yet he will maim, murder or commit hayhem over an idea or a philosophy. Men are capable of splitting an atom-but incapable of keeping the peace. They know how to improve everything but human behavior . . . that’s why some beaches ban bikinis and jewellers stopped putting watches on garters. They couldn’t regulate the hands. Men along with all animal life become emotionally disturbed if life doesn’t follow a familiar pattern; while women go half crazy from boredom if it does. Men don’t gossip- they just exchange ideas . . . and they’re logical and literal. Women, though, are imaginative and exaggerative. Why- a woman can even go into raptures over sheer empty stockings!

Gals make buying a business; they approach it with all the joy of the hunt, elbowing their way up to the bargain counters. Men are more gullible and prove to be ready prey for mechanical gadgets and expensive gimmicks. Yet, when a bargain-minded doll spends five elbowing hours and ten gallons of gas working her way to buy stockings for fifty cents less, she’s way off the beam. On the other hand, when a man drives an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned office, eats in air-conditioned comfort, walks down an air-conditioned arcade and winds up paying to sit in a steamroom so he can sweat like a harvest hand- that’s just one of his idosyncrasies!

While a middle-aged man trusts that his lean years are behind him, a woman hopes that hers are ahead. Men think women can’t be trusted too far, women say men can’t be trusted too near. A good man’s known by what he does, a good woman by what she doesn’t. And who says women’s minds are cleaner than men’s? They should be- they change them often enough! Only one man in 998 is a leader of men; the others are followers of women; and men have more problems because they have to put up with those women. Sometimes this makes a fellow wonder whether men really are super-mammals; who ever heard of a monkey dumb enough to get married?

But why write a chapter about how to get along with women? One sentence can cover the whole subject. . . just do as they tell you. Despite all this sass and sarcasm, breathes there a man with soul so dead he’s never turned his head and said, “Not bad!” A man finds it more difficult to understand other men than women do; often he’s taken in by another’s public (or company) side, not by his private (or at home) side. With men as with nuts you never can tell about them until you get them out of their shells. The real makings of a man usually come to light when he’s out fishing, hunting, hiking or on a horseback trek. That’s when the inadequate social scion is most apt to claim that all the game is his; or to duck the dust by not riding “drag”; whereas the crustiest cuss tried to outdo the rest of the gang as an “after you, my dear Alphonse” kind of guy.

Sociologists separate humans as being hard- or softheaded; and hard- or soft-hearted. The most wholesome man is balanced somewhere between the hard-headed, hard-hearted-and the soft-headed, soft-hearted. Among those hard-headed, and hard-hearted, is the grasping calculating cynic who’d like to be God if possible -and it comes hard for him to admit that he isn’t. All men are his natural enemies-an attitude that makes him the natural enemy of all men. The soft-headed, soft-hearted person is responsible for as much of the world’s mischief as his opposite type-for he looks through rose-colored glasses-stays unwrinkled by woe and uncorrupted by ego; not because of any sentiment in his make-up, but because he’s too much of a coward to face reality. Thus he stays childish in his simplicity. When it comes to a soft-headed, hard-hearted individual, he is no more a realist than his hard-headed, hard-hearted companion; he’s just more sneaky in his own cynical way.

The choice (but rare) combination is in the man with the hard head and soft heart. He’s strong, uncomplicated, outdoorsy; with a strength and tenacity free from fear. He loves life and makes those with whom he comes into contact feel the same way. Deep inside he’s just as sentimental as a schoolgirl-eager to find good in every man and-to overlook the rotten spots.

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