Saturday, June 26, 2004

Dodgeball and Real Men

(listening to "The Warehouse" by Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds)

It's Saturday morning. Rain is pattering down from a leaden sky, and I am draining the last of a superlative pot of Arabian Mocha Java. Lindz and I saw Dodgeball last night, and it was some funny shit. Ben Stiller is a very funny man, and the Good Lord knows this world needs all the funny people it can get. The film reminds me of the brutal degradation that is the very soul of the game of dodgeball. In grade school, I was forced to play it along with lots of other humiliating team sports. I was, in case you haven't guessed, a nerd. At 31 years of age, I am now able to call this nerdiness "personality." I hated gym class as a kid. Ugh; I'm shuddering at the recollection of it.

(listening to "Tangerine" by Led Zeppelin)

My big brother Scott posted some pictures from our parents' wedding. Part of me feels bad for not having a "real" wedding, and part of me just marvels a those people in the pictures. I happened because of that day in 1962 (ten years later, of course).

Scott is, compared to me, an adult, productive member of society. He has three fabulous children and a real job. He has an excellent wife, but so do I. He followed in our father's footsteps in that he is an engineer. I owe my love of King Crimson to him, and his influence during my childhood did much to enhance my overall awareness of music. Not to get corny, but he has also been, along with our late father, the example of manhood for me. He is a provider, a father, a fixer of broken things, and a passionate lover of the good things in life. He is not an insecure guy who uses the word "bro" excessively. He does not have a Harley, a big truck, or a bunch of jetskis and powerboats. Neither he nor Dad ever took themselves too seriously. He is a polite, articulate, hard working man. He likes beer and food. He does not (at least to my knowledge) spit in public, shout at the tv during sporting events, or stare conspicuously at women's asses.

And that, folks, is a real man.

1 comment:

Scott said...

Aw geez...you're too kind. I feel compelled to comment:
Adult? not too much I hope. Sometimes I fear the child isn't as apparent as he should be. "Productive member of society": hmmmm, I produce paperwork, car exhaust, sawdust occasionally; ok- no argument. Excellent wife: hell yeah. A Harley wouldn't be all bad...
The key word is "conspicuously".
Thanks, bro!
Nice picture!