Let's cut to the chase. I'm not actually that comfortable with some aspects of being a man in either English or Australian culture. The blokey, beery, laddish stereotype that some men espouse ain't me. I tried it when I was younger but I was a total failure at being a lad. "Cor, er, look at the, er, tits on that. Anyone read the Times Literary Supplement this week?"
I don't like sport. My Mum is more of a sports fan than I am. Please don't make me watch the footie*. Please don't ask me what team I support. Because then I'll have to break your clumsy yet charming attempts at male-bonding & socialising by telling you the truth.
A big reason behind this is probably my Dad. If you're going to write about being a man, you have to write a little about fathers.
Papa was a rolling stone. Wherever he laid his hat was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.My Dad isn't a rolling stone. He's a very gentle man with a very warped sense of humour (something inherited by both my brother & I) who takes his responsibilities seriously. He is happy with his homebrew, his cycling, my Mum & writing puppet shows for the local church. Despite a spell being a stoker in the navy, he's not especially macho. Nor is he especially interested in sport.
According to all those dramas about men in traumatic relationships with their fathers, where that which needs to be said remains unsaid, I should have terrible difficulty relating to him. But I'm not sure I do. We are different people but we share so much. I have grown to appreciate everything he's done. I think this is true of many father/son relationships (another, fictional Gavin & his Dad come to mind). Many of us do want our Dads to be proud of us. And I hope that many of them are.
A brief intermission from Tricky:
...strong enough to take a life.Now that's something I could sign up to. More on this tomorrow...
Are you strong enough to take care of one?
*I don't mind being at a footie match but that's mostly because I want to watch the crowd and sense the collective waves of emotion that roil around the stadium. It's like being in a psychic washing machine.
Man Tag
I would like to invite the following to discourse on manliness on their blogs.
There will be 3 more invites per day this week. Gird your blogging loins gentlemen.
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5 comments:
Who said it was a heteroseuxal thought?
Mark - You're jumping ahead there. That's a post for later in the week...
There's nothing wrong with a little bromance ;)
My brother had a really difficult relationship with my dad. It was so sad to see them so stuck. And it never moved on. It actually always stayed stuck. Stuck in my brother being angry. And stuck with my father being unaffected by my brother (read .. lacking interest) until my brother became very ill. He was eventually diagnosed with bipolar. It's really sad. My brother died at 24. He took his own life. My father told me before my brother's funeral that when he saw my brother at the morgue that my brother "looked beautiful". I understood his sentiments .. he had finally seen my brother's beauty, the beauty that is within us all, but it was too late. It's a tragic story, i know. But it's a reminder to stop and see the beauty in those close to you. Even if they piss you off mightily for long periods. We shouldnt' take life too seriously .. but on the other hand... life is serious shit guys. Take it seriously.
JJ - That is a sad thing. Thanks for commenting.
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